


Angel Inside The Blue Box

by anniaaddams



Series: Grantaire's Adventures With The Doctor [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Depression, Feminist Themes, Gen, Genocide, Mental Health Issues, Period-Typical Sexism, Swearing, Team TARDIS, Time Travel, Violence, i just felt the need of adding this, some characters die but they all come back, space travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniaaddams/pseuds/anniaaddams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Because each fulfilled the other, in a way. The Doctor, with her need of a company and a hand to hold, and Grantaire, who secretly wished to escape his life. For them to meet was to find, and in the moment they first looked into each others eyes, fourteen years ago, they joined. They were together now. The Doctor and Grantaire. Probably the most unusual pair one could ever imagine, but that was exactly what would make them perfect as a team."</p><p>The Doctor and Grantaire, traveling together through space and time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One: The Eleventh Hour (Or That Time When The Doctor Saved The World In Less Than 20 Minutes.)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, hello, thank you for clicking this story. My name is Annia and this is my first time publishing in this web-site. I'm a bit nervous, to be honest, but oh. Uh, you can also find me (and this story) on tumblr in "angelinsidethebluebox". I made the tumblr to post this fanfiction there as well, but I'm always glad to talk to people in there, and if you have any questions, feel free to hit me up. 
> 
> And I think that's it. Please read the notes at the end for more information towards the plot changes in both Doctor Who and Les Misérables.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this.

  
The red-head woman leaned against the door after she closed it. Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself along by the handrail, and took off her trench-coat, letting it fall to the ground. She looked at her right hand, as it began to glow with energy. She walked around the console, leaning her body against it, tears streaming down her face. She looked up for a moment.

"I don't want to go..." She whispered, closing her eyes.

She stepped back as the pain hit her. The energy began to flow through her body. She threw her head back and opened her arms as a blast of energy poured from her. The force of the process caused her ship to shake heavily as a small fire started in the console. She screamed in pain once more, and then it was over.

Her new body felt slightly different. The woman looked down at her new self, sighing in relief. "Legs. I've still got legs, good." She sighed, planting a kiss on her knees. "Arms. Hands. Ooh, fingers, lots of fingers... Ears, yes. Eyes, two. Nose, good. Chin, blimey. Hair..." She run her fingers though her hair. "No longer ginger, I see!" She then reached out her hands to the rest of her body. "Oh, curves. That's good. Good. I feel smaller... Oh!" She exclaimed, now looking down at her breasts. "I'm still a girl. Amazing." She grinned, before clasping her new hands together and turning around. "And something else, something important, I'm, I'm... I'm..." There was an explosion coming from behind her. " _Ha! Crashing!_ "

The ship was still shaking. The woman turned around, tripping on her own feet as she grabbed hold of one the levers in the console. She let out an exclamation of excitement, before pressing one of the buttons. "Geronimo!"

**( . . . )**

  
The seven-year old boy was lying on his bed, humming the same lullaby his mother used to sing to him. He glanced at the wall of his bedroom for a moment, analyzing the unusual crack about three to four feet long on it. He sighed and got off the bed. Wrapping his blanket around himself, he got down in his knees, clasping his hands together as his mother had taught him to do.

"Dear Santa." He started, in a low tone of voice. "Thank you for the little soldiers and the books and the crayons. It's Easter now, so I hope I didn't wake you, but honestly, it is an emergency…" He trailed off, looking at his wall once again. "There's a crack in my wall. Papa says it's just an ordinary crack, due to this house being old, but I know it's not. Sometimes there are… voices. Especially during the night… So please, please, could you send someone to fix it? Perhaps someone from the police forces or someone from the -"

Before the little boy could finish his sentence, he was startled by a huge noise coming from the garden. He flinched and reached for the candle in his nightstand. Moved by curiosity and still wrapped around his blanket, he got up and made his way downstairs as quickly as he could.

The source of the noise, he found out, was caused by the crashing of a huge blue box against one of the trees his father had planted a few years ago. The little boy approached it, trying to decide between running away and hiding or staying and finding out what the blue box was.

Before he could make up his mind, though, the doors of the blue box snapped open outwards, facing the sky. Two hands got hold of one of the edges, and soon, a strange-looking woman popped out of it.

The woman took a deep breath, before looking up. "Oh, hello, little guy." She smiled, waving her hand. "Could you please tell me where I am at the moment?"

The little boy raised an eyebrow in confusion. "We're in Paris, mademoiselle. Obviously."

"Paris? We're in Paris? I'm in freaking Paris? Oh, how rubbish is that." She scoffed, pulling herself up and out of the blue box.

The little boy stared at her, wide-eyed, for a few seconds. She seemed a rather normal looking woman, in his opinion. She was about the same age of his eldest sister, maybe a bit older. But there was something strange about her. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

The little boy tilted his head to the side. "You're funny."

"Funny?" She asks, looking at him with an amused expression. "Blimey, that's new. You are the first person to call me funny… I've been called weird many times. And this one time this old woman called me mental… But never funny, though." She tried to walk, but tripped on her own feet. She regained her balance in a matter of seconds, and looked at her surroundings. "Whoa. I'm clumsy now. Won't you look at that?"

"Mademoiselle?" The little boy asked. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, kid." She chuckled. "Just had a fall. All the way down there" She pointed at the blue box "right into the library. Hell of a climb up, let me tell you."

"You're soaking wet." He pointed out.

"Yeah. I was in the swimming pool." She replied, taking one of the strands of her messy blonde hair and having a look at it. "Blimey, this looks horrible."

The little boy blinked his eyes and crossed his arms, becoming slightly frustrated. "You said you were in the library." He said, a million questions going through his head. Was she lying to him? Why? What the hell was that strange woman doing in his garden? Why had the blue box crashed against a tree? What exactly was that blue box?

"So was the swimming pool." She sighed. "Awful combination. Never put a swimming pool in a library, kid. Things just get messy."

"Are you from the police?" He asked, eyeing her with suspicion.

"No. Why, did you call the police?"

The little boy didn't give her an answer. Instead, he just approached her, becoming less and less scared as the seconds flew by. "Did you come about the crack on my wall?"

"Crack?" The woman asked, impatient. "What do you mean? What cra-Ah.-AAAUCH." She collapsed to the ground, letting out a moan of pain.

"Mademoiselle? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm okay. This… This is perfectly normal." She replied, as a small breath of gold energy came out of her mouth and disappeared in thin air. The woman shook her head, and looked up at him. "Oh. Can I have an apple? That's all I can't think about. Apples. Big, red and tasty apples. Blimey, I think I'm having a craving. That's new. Never had cravings before."

"I don't mean to be rude, but Mademoiselle… _Who are you?_ "

"Who am I? What a wonderful question. Who am I? Oh, I don't know yet. I'm still cooking." She replied, getting up on her feet and stretching her back "Does it scare you?"

"No. It just looks a bit funny."

"Again with the funny." She muttered, with a sigh. "I meant the crack on your wall. Does it scare you?"

"Hum…" The little boy hesitated for a few seconds. He looked up at her, and merely nodded his head. "Yes."

"Well, no time to lose them." The woman smiled kindly at him. "I'm the Doctor. Do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions, and don't wander off." She turned around to walk, but ended up hitting one of the remaining trees of the garden and falling into the ground once more.

The little boy rolled his eyes, approaching the woman. "Are you completely sure that you are all right?' He asked, trying to not sound rude.

"Early days. Steering it's a bit off."

**( . . . )**

  
"If you're a doctor, then why does your box say 'police'?"

"Long story" she replied, shrugging.

The little boy had taken her to the kitchen of his house, and after grabbing an apple from the table he started to lead the way upstairs, being careful to not trip over his blanket. The Doctor had taken out an odd-looking object from her pockets - 'sonic screwdriver', as she called it - and was using it to light up the way. (She had confiscated the candle from him, rambling about how dangerous it would be if he dropped that on the ground.)

Once they were upstairs, the little boy handed her the apple. "Here, mademoiselle. The apple you asked for."

"Thank you so much." The Doctor replied, looking down at the apple. She noticed that there was a face carved into it. "Oh, look. A smiley face. How different."

The little boy nodded his head, as he watched the Doctor take a bite of it. "I used to hate apples when I was younger. So my mama used to put faces in them."

"I'm going to save this for later." She commented, glancing at the apple and putting it in her pocket. "But she sounds good. Your mum."

"She was."

"Was?" The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. "What happened to her?"

"I don't remember." He replied, slightly upset. "I only have a dad and my three sisters. One of them is married, so she doesn't live here."

"I see." She commented, nodding her head. "Sorry, I haven't asked yet. What's your name, huh?"

"Thomas." The little boy replied, smiling at the woman for the first time.

"Okay, then. Where are your other sisters and your father, Thomas?" She asked, with curiosity. "I thought we would have waked them up by now."

"They're not here." The little boy said, crossing his arms. "Papa took them to a fancy ball and they didn't want me to come. But I didn't want to go anyway."

"So they left you alone?"

"I'm not scared."

"Course, you're not. You're not scared of anything. Box falls out of the sky, woman falls out of a box, woman eats apple, and look at you, just standing there. So you know what I think?"

He shook his head, now opening the door of his bedroom. He turned to look at her. "What?"

"It must be a hell of a scary crack in this wall of yours."

The little boy nodded, pointing at the crack. The Doctor stepped inside his bedroom and approached the wall rupture right away, running her fingers through it and muttering non-senses to herself. Thomas thought about saying something, but she looked deep in thoughts.

After what seemed to be five minutes, the Doctor spoke. "You've had some cowboys in here. Well, not actually cowboys, though that can happen." She pointed the sonic screwdriver at the crack and it made a rather annoying noise for a few moments. "This wall is solid and the crack doesn't go all the way through it. So here's a thing. Where's the drought coming from? Oh, blimey." She analyzed the sonic screwdriver, and looked at him. " _Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey._ You know what the crack is?"

"What?"

"It's a crack. But I'll tell you something funny. If you knocked this wall down, the crack would stay put, because the crack isn't in the wall."

Thomas shot her a look of disbelief. "Where is it then?"

"Everywhere. In everything." She replied, taking a few steps back and staring into the crack. "It's a split in the skin of the world. Two parts of space and time that should never have touched, pressed together right here in the wall of your bedroom…" She trailed off, now turning around to face the little boy. "Tell me. Sometimes, can you hear...?"

"A voice?" He interrupted her. "Yes."

There was a growling sound coming from the wall. The Doctor turned around, and noticing a glass of water placed in the nightstand next to Thomas' bed, she quickly grabbed it and emptied it on the floor - which earned her a glare from the little boy. She pressed one of the ends against the wall, and placed her ear on the other end of the cup. She could hear a muffled voice, whispering and yelling. She couldn't understand exactly what it was saying, except from two words. "Prisoner Zero?"

"Prisoner Zero has escaped." Thomas says, looking slightly scared. "That's what I heard. What does it mean?"

The Doctor bit her lower lip, turning around and putting the cup back on the nightstand. "It means that on the other side of this wall, there's a prison and they've lost a prisoner. And you know what that means?"

"What?"

"You need a better wall." She stated, with a sigh. "The only way to close the breach is to open it all the way. The forces will invert and it'll snap itself shut. Or…"

"Or what?" The little boy asked, his eyes wide.

"Well…" The Doctor trailed of, scratching the back of her head with her free hand. "You know when grown-ups tell you everything's going to be fine and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better?"

There were tears in the little boy's eyes as he simply nodded his head and muttered something that sounded like "Yes".

The Doctor smiled kindly at him. "Everything's going to be fine."

She takes Thomas' hands into hers, and aimed her sonic screwdriver at the crack. It made a funny noise as the crack began to widen, filling the bedroom with a bright light. The voice could be heard now, loud and clear, echoing through the crack. _"Prisoner Zero has escaped. Prisoner Zero has escaped."_

"Hello?" The Doctor calls, taking a few steps ahead.

Thomas followed close, hiding behind her. He didn't let go of the woman's hand. He was too scared of the crack to do that. He lets out a cry when big blue eyes appeared into the other side. "What's that?"

There was a big noise and suddenly, the crack closed itself.

"There, you see? Told you it would close. Good as new." The Doctor cheered, letting go of his hand.

"What's that thing? Was that Prisoner Zero?"

"No. I think that was Prisoner Zero's guard. Whatever it was, it sent me a message." She says, reaching out to her pockets and taking out something that looked like a document. "Psychic paper. Takes a lovely little message." She commented, before looking at it. " _Prisoner Zero has escaped._ But why tell us?" She made a pause. "Unless…"  
"Unless what?"

"Unless Prisoner Zero escaped through here." The Doctor shook her head, putting the psychic paper back into her pockets. "But he couldn't have. We'd know." Slightly confused, she stepped into the corridors, turning around. "There's something I'm missing here, Thomas. Something in the corner of my eye…"

"Mademoiselle?" Thomas asked, uncertain.

Suddenly there was an explosion outside. The Doctor gulped, sheer panic splattered across her face as she started to run downstairs. "No. No, no, no, no, no. Oh, damn it."  


**( . . . )**

  
"Mademoiselle?" Thomas asked, as he ran after her. "Where are you going?"

"I've got to get back in there." The Doctor replied, approaching the blue box and turning around to face the little boy. "The engines are phasing. It's going to burn!"

"But it's just a box. How can a box have engines?" He asked, confused. "Wait, what are engines?"

"Never mind the engines. It's not a box. It's a time machine."

"What's a time machine?"

The Doctor sighed. "It's a machine that can travel in time."

"And you've got a real time machine?"

"Not for much longer if I can't get her stabilized." The Doctor commented, biting her lower lip. "Five minute hop into the future should do it."

Thomas looked at her with puppy eyes. "Can I come?"

"What? Are you crazy?" The Doctor asked, shaking her head. "Not safe in here. Not yet. Five minutes. Give me five minutes, I'll be right back."

The little boy pouted, crossing his arms. "People always say that."

The Doctor laughed, climbing into one of the TARDIS' doors. She turns to look at Thomas. "Am I people? Do I even look like people?" She asked, grinning. "Trust me. I'm the Doctor."

Before Thomas could say anything, The Doctor jumped into the TARDIS, yelling something that sounded like "Geronimo". Right after that, he could hear the sound of water moving around and the doors of the blue box closed itself. There was a big, whirring noise, and the TARDIS disappeared into thin air.  


**( . . . )**

  
It was now daytime. There was smoke coming out of the TARDIS when it finally materialized back into the garden. The Doctor stumbled out of it, taking a huge breath. She looked at her surroundings, but there was no sign of Thomas in the garden. She turned around and ran towards the house. She used the kitchen entrance that the little boy had shown her less than half an hour ago, and was slightly surprised to find the place empty.

"Thomas!" She called, making her way to the living room. "Thomas, are you there?" There was no answer. She frowned, biting her lower lip. Something wasn't right. "I worked out what it was. I know what I was missing! You've got to get out of there!" She spoke again, waiting for an answer. But nothing.

She cursed under her breath and ran upstairs, going to the bedroom. "Thomas? Thomas, are you all right? Are you there?" She opened the door of the little boy's bedroom and sighed, wondering where the kid was. Stepping into the hallway again, she turned around. "Prisoner Zero's here. Prisoner Zero is here! Prisoner Zero is here! Do you understand me?" She called, hoping that wherever he was, he could hear her "Prisoner Zero is -!"

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt something pressed against her back. She gulped, as a strange voice spoke. "What are you doing in my house?"

"Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?" The Doctor asked, ignoring his question.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" The man repeated, not showing any emotions on his voice.

"Who am I?" She scoffed. "Who are _you_?"

"I'm warning you. I work for the police and I've sent my maid to call for backup. I can get you arrested in a blink of an eye." He told her. "What are you doing in my house?"

"Hang on, no, wait." The Doctor says, blinking her eyes in confusion. "You're a police officer".

"And you're breaking and entering. You see how this works?"

"But what are you doing here? Where's Thomas?"

The man scoffed. "Thomas?"

"Yeah, Thomas. Little French Boy. Oh, You know what…" She started, trying hard not to move herself too much. The gun pressed against her back felt uncomfortable and alarming. "Why don't you put the gun down and then we'll talk?"

"All right. But no funny business." He agreed.

The Doctor turned around, only to find the gun was now aimed at her forehead. She sighed. "Where is Thomas? He lives here. I promised him five minutes but the engines were phasing. I suppose I must have gone a bit far. Has something happened to him?"

"Sorry, Ma'am. Thomas hasn't lived here for a long time."

"How long?"

"Six months."

"No." The Doctor shook her head. "No, I can't be six months late. I said five minutes. I promised. What happened to him? What happened to Thomas?" She asked, before taking a deep breath. "I need to- I need to speak to whoever lives in this house right now."

"I live here."

"But you're the police."

"Yes, and this is where I live." He put the gun down, taking some time to analyze her. "Have you got a problem with that?"

"How many rooms?" The Doctor suddenly asked.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"On this floor. How many rooms on this floor? Count them for me now." She explained, leaning against a wall.

"Why?"

"Because it will change your life."

The man rolled his eyes. "Five." He said, pointing the doors with his fingers and counting them. "One, two, three, four, five."

"Six." The Doctor corrected. "Look."

"Look where?" He asked, getting slightly impatient by the moment.

"Exactly where you don't want to look. Where you never want to look. The corner of your eye. Look behind you."

The man hesitated for a few seconds, but did as the Doctor told. He spotted a new room this time. A room he had never noticed before. He gasped, taking a few steps back. "That's, that is not possible. How's that possible?"

"There's a perception filter all around the door. Sensed it the last time I was here. Should have seen it."

"What on earth is a perception filter?" He asked, looking at her with wide eyes.

"It's some sort of machine that can disguise or hide anything."

"But that's a whole room. That's a whole room I've never even noticed."

"The filter stops you from noticing. Something came a while ago to hide. It's still hiding, and you need to stay away from that door!" The Doctor warned.

The man moved towards the door, which caused the Doctor to try to follow him. She had barely taken two steps, though, when the man turned to her. "Stay here. One more step and I shoot you."

"But -"

"I'm warning you." He said, making his way over to the room.

"No. Do not touch that door! Listen to me, do not open that." The Doctor warned, but the man ignored her. He entered the room, not bothering to hear what she was saying. "Why does no-one ever listen to me? Do I just have a face that nobody listens to?"

"There's nothing here." The man called.

"Whatever is there stopped you from seeing the room. What makes you think you could see it?" She asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Now please, just get out."

"I'm hearing something." He told her. "I'm hearing something but I can't see it."

"Don't try to see it. If it knows you've seen it, it will kill you. Don't look at it."

The man suddenly ran out of the room, and the Doctor used her sonic screwdriver to shut the door. He turned to look at her, his eyes wide with fear. "Will that door hold it?"

"Of course. It's an inter-dimensional multiform from outer space. They're all terrified of wood." The Doctor answered. She then looked up to see a bright light emerging from the room. "Blimey."

"What's that? What's it doing?" The man asked.

"I don't know. Getting dressed?" She sighed. "Run. Just go. Your back up is coming. I'll be fine."

He bit his lower lip, giving her an apologetic smile. "There is no back up."

"What do you mean there is no back up? You told me your maid went for back up."

"I was lying."

"You're a police officer."

"I'm an art student." He confessed, running his fingers through his own hair. "I don't even have a maid! I can't afford that."

The Doctor was about to reply when suddenly the door fell down to the floor, revealing a man wearing overalls, accompanied by a black dog. She blinked her eyes, tilting her head to the side.

"That's just a man."

"No it isn't. Look at the faces." She warned, taking a few steps back.

"What?" The man asked, giving the creature another look. The creature suddenly let out a bark. "What is that?"

"It's all one creature. One creature disguised as two. Clever old multi-form. A bit of a rush job, though. Got the voice a bit muddled, did you? Mind you, where did you get the pattern from? You'd need a psychic link, a live feed. How did you fix that?”

The creature suddenly opened its mouth, showing a mouthful of sharp teeth.

"Good God." The man muttered. "I'm too sober for this."

"Stay, boy!" The Doctor warned, pointing her sonic screwdriver at the creature. "Him and me, we're safe, mate. Want to know why? He sent for back up."

"I didn't send for back-up!"

She shot him a glare. "I know. That was a clever lie to save our lives." Then, turning back at the creature, she waved her hands in a dismissive gesture. "Okay, yeah, no back up. And that's why we're safe. Alone, we're not a threat to you. If we had back up, you'd have to kill us."

And suddenly, a voice echoed through the house. Loud and clear, just like the guard's voice from before. _"Attention, Prisoner Zero. The human residence is surrounded. Attention Prisoner Zero. The human residence is surrounded."_

"What's that?"

"Well, that would be back up." The Doctor commented. "Okay, one more time. We do have back up and that's definitely why we're safe."

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated."_

"Well, safe apart from, you know, incineration."

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated."_

"I'm the Doctor, by the way." She said, looking over at the man. "What's your name?"

"Grantaire."

"Well, nice to meet you, Grantaire." And grabbing his hand, she continued. "Now run for your life."


	2. Chapter I, Part II: The Eleventh Hour or That Time When The Doctor Saved The World In Less Than 20 Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He had to let her know just how much damage she had caused. But he couldn't. Because even if she had been the reason for most of his problems as a child, she had also been the light to guide him during many years. She had been the last spark of hope to fade away in his heart, and, as much as he wanted to despise her, he could not. He wanted to tell her that. He needed to tell her that. But he couldn't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, hello. Chapter I, Part II. I should have probably cut this off in the half because, well, it got too long. But it wouldn't make much sense if I did. I'm so sorry. Thanks for everyone who checked this out and left a kudos. You guys are amazing.

Once they had reached the garden, the Doctor made a pause to catch her breath. She felt the pain of the regeneration process hitting her once more and leaned her body against a tree, almost unable to keep herself standing. The amount of pain she felt was quite unbelievable - she had, of course, gone through worse symptoms before, but the situation she had found herself in at the moment was proving itself to be confusing and highly dangerous and she just wasn't ready to deal with that yet. Another breath of gold energy left her mouth and she fell onto her knees.

"Are you all right?" Grantaire asked, glancing at her with a blank expression, his lips pursed on a thin line. "You seem a bit… weak."

"I'll be fine. This is perfectly normal." She muttered, looking up at him. "Why'd you pretend to be a police officer?"

"You broke into my house and I had a gun. Seemed like a good idea at the time." He shrugged, offering a hand to her. She gladly accept it, as he pulled her up. "Now, tell me. What's going on?"

"An alien convict is hiding in your spare room disguised as a man and a dog, and some other aliens are about to incinerate your house." She quickly explained, rubbing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Any questions?"

"Uh… Yes."

"Me too." She answered, before walking towards the TARDIS. She tried to open the doors, noticing that something was off almost instantly. She tried to open it again, not obtaining any results. Frowning, she tried to open the doors a third time, but they locked themselves right away. She let out a moan of annoyance. "No! Come on, don't do that, not now!"

"That's a giant blue box?” Grantaire interrupted her train of thoughts, raising an eyebrow at her odd behavior. “What's a giant blue box doing in my garden?"

"It's not a box, it's a time machine. And it's still rebuilding. Not letting us in."

"Yeah, right." Grantaire scoffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated."_

"Oh, give me a break." The Doctor hissed, turning around. She took a moment to look at her surroundings, muttering non-senses to herself when something caught her attention. The Time Lord blinked her eyes several times, tilting her head to the side. Something was different. Something was way different. "This tree." She pointed out, approaching said tree and resting her hand over it. "I destroyed this tree last time I was here. Smashed it to pieces. It was a hell of a mess."

"So? There's a new one. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah, but the new one's got old. It's ten years old at least." The Doctor reasoned. She took the sonic screwdriver out of the pockets of her jeans and pointed it at the tree for a second or two. "Twelve years. I'm twelve years late. You said six months." She said, turning around to face Grantaire. "Why did you say six months?"

"We've got to go." He pleaded, avoiding her eyes

.  
"No. This matters. This is important. Why did you said six months?"

_"WHY DID YOU SAID FIVE MINUTES?"_ Grantaire snapped, looking at her. His face had a mixed expression of anger and annoyance. He ran one of his hands through his messy hair and let out a sigh. “I must be hallucinating.”

"You're Thomas. Thomas Grantaire. You're the little boy." The Doctor realized, her eyes widening in realization. "What happened?"

"Twelve years."

_"You pointed a gun at me."_

"Twelve years." Grantaire repeated, rolling his eyes and taking her by the hand.

_"A GUN!"_

"Twelve years and four boarding schools."

"Four?" She asked, tilting her head to the side and feeling slightly confused.

"I kept biting my professors."

"Why?"

Grantaire didn't answered at first, taking a few seconds to think about this situation. He was angry and he had the right to feel that way. He was abandoned. He was lied to. He had spent most of his life believing this mad woman would come back for him. He was called crazy. He was mocked by his own family. And he got used to it. He got used to being alone, to being lied to. He got used to be the crazy little boy. Until, of course, he grew up and became the bitter young man. No longer able to care about what the others thought of him. Taking a good care at not believing in anything.

And now she was back. His 'Raggedy Woman', as he so affectionately nicknamed her. After twelve whole years of suffering and doubting, she had just walked back into his life, almost as she never had left it in the first place. But she didn't had the right to do that. It didn't worked like that.

Biting his lower lip, Grantaire looked at her. "They said you weren't real." He admitted, with a sigh. "Now let's get out of here."

 

( . . . )

 

_It was not a good day for running,_ the Doctor thought, as she stopped in her tracks to catch her breath. Her whole body was aching, her head was pounding and she was becoming uneasy as every second flew by. She had no idea of where prisoner zero was – was he still in the house? Had he gotten himself outside? What happened? - and she could still hear the incineration threat from the Atraxi, coming loud and clear.

_"Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated. Repeat. Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated."_

"IT HASN'T STOPPED YET." She suddenly snapped, turning to look at Grantaire. "Why? He already left the house, probably. He could be anywhere. Prisoner Zero has left the human residence."

"But they didn't caught him yet…" Grantaire pointed out, frowning.

"Oh." The Doctor says, realization suddenly hitting her. "Oh. This is not good. This is so not good." She sighed. "Okay. Planet this size, two poles, your basic molten core? They're going to need a forty percent fission blast. But they'll have to power up first, won't they? So assuming a medium-sized starship, that's 20 minutes. What do you think, twenty minutes? Yeah, twenty minutes. We've got twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes to what?"

"The human residence." The Doctor explained. "They're not talking about your house, they're talking about the planet. Somewhere up there, there's a spaceship, and it's going to incinerate the planet."

"Twenty minutes to the end of the world, then." Grantaire says, not showing any emotions. "Can't wait."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but said nothing. Instead, she looked around herself. "Where are we? What year is this?"

"Paris. 1827." He answered, confused.

"Blimey, this is just perfect." She muttered, shaking her head. "I'm in 1827 with no plain form of technology. Well, that's good. Fantastic, that is. Twenty minutes to save the world and I've got a post office." She says, looking over the man's shoulder. "And it's shut." She spotted something in the corner of her eyes, and turned around, raising an eyebrow. It was a small lake. They were in a park. Or a public garden. There was a lake. Or was it a pond? A river, perhaps? She shook her head, turning to Grantaire.'"Wait, what's that?"

"That's a duck pond."

"Why aren't there any ducks?"

"I don't know. There's never any ducks."

"Then how do you know it's a duck pond?"

"It just is." He sighed. "Doctor, is it important, the duck pond?"

"I don't know." She cried, putting her hands on her hips. "Why would I know? This is too soon. I'm not ready, I'm not done yet."

He rolled his eyes, before noticing something odd. "What's happening? What's wrong with the sun?" Grantaire asked, looking up at the sky.

"The same thing that is wrong with all suns. Too much of an ego. They think they're the best thing to ever happen just because some planets need its light and -"

"Doctor, the sun is black."

"Oh." She looked up to the sky, biting her lower lip. "There is nothing wrong with the sun. You are just looking at it through a force field. They've sealed off your upper atmosphere. Now they're getting ready to boil the planet." She looked around the street.

"This isn't real, is it?" Grantaire asked, shaking his head. "This is just some joke... Some kind of big wind up."

"Why would I wind you up?" The Doctor asked softly, placing a hand on Grantaire's shoulder.

He stared at her for a moment, tears in his eyes. He had to say something. He had to let her know just how much damage she had caused. But he couldn't. Because even if she had been the reason for most of his problems as a child, she had also been the light to guide him during many years. She had been the last spark of hope to fade away in his heart, and, as much as he wanted to despise her, he could not. He wanted to tell her that. He needed to tell her that. But he couldn't. Instead, he let a sigh escape his lips as he adverted his gaze away from her. "You told me you had a time machine."

"And you believed me."

"Then I grew up." He scoffed, shaking his head.

"Oh, you never want to do that." The Doctor sighed, before turning around. "No. Hang on. Shut up. Wait. I missed it. I saw it and I missed it. What did I see? I saw. What did I see? I saw, I saw, I saw…"

They looked around. A crowd had gathered and everyone was staring at the sun. Except a man. He was scribbling something in a small notebook, casually stealing glances of a woman and a child.

The Doctor smiled with confidence. "Twenty minutes. I can do it. Twenty minutes, the planet burns." She turned to look at Grantaire. "Run to your loved ones and say goodbye or stay and help me."

The Doctor made a movement to walk, but Grantaire got a hold of her arm before she could do so. _"Who are you?"_

"You know who I am."

"No, really.' Grantaire said, acquiring a serious tone of voice. "Who are you?"

The Doctor sighed, shaking her head. "There's no time for this, Grantaire. Look at the sky. End of the world, twenty minutes."

"Better talk quickly, then." Grantaire insisted.

She blinked her eyes for a moment and nodded her head. How could she prove to him that she was telling the truth? Just how exactly could she explain the situation she had gotten herself into? He believed in her once, many years ago, and she let him down. It wasn't entirely her fault, but still. There had to be something she could do to show him this was not a wind up, as he had so kindly put it. _Showing it being the key word,_ she thought to herself, as an idea popped into her head. The Doctor reached into the pockets of her jeans and smiled at the young man in front of her. "Catch."

She tossed something to him and he quickly caught it with his free hand. He looked at it for a moment and felt completely unable to say anything. It was the apple. The apple with the smiley-face carved on it. The apple he had given to her when they first met, twelve years ago. Even after years of trying to repress those memories, he could still remember it and it was the exact same apple.

"I'm the Doctor." She started, with a pleading tone. "I'm a time traveler. Everything I told you twelve years ago is true. I'm real. What's happening in the sky is real, and if you don't let me go right now, everything you've ever known is over."

"I don't believe you. I wanna help you, but… I just don't believe you..." He answered, shaking his head.

"Just twenty minutes. Just believe me for twenty minutes. Look at it." She begged, gently reaching out and brushing some strands of hair away from his face. He flinched at her touch, looking at her with a puzzled expression. "Fresh as the day you gave it to me. And you know it's the same one. Grantaire, believe for twenty minutes.." She asked sweetly, looking into his eyes. "That's all I'm asking. And then you will never have to deal with this again, if you don't want to. You'll be back at your house, and you'll be safe. Twenty minutes. Please. Help me."

He felt a sudden anger rise on his chest and his grip on her arm tightened for a moment. _How dare she?_ , he thought, _she must be mad to believe that I would help her, after all those years._ His first instinct was to let her go. To yell at her and to demand that she left him alone and never came back. But how could he do something of the sort when memories and dreams of her fulfilled his mind, the sensation of hope and adoration once again taking control of all his actions?

Had any other person asked for his help, he would have denied. And he should deny his help to her, too. But there was something different and yet special about her. Something in the way she believed he could help. She wanted his help. She wanted him around. She felt guilty about leaving him and she was willing to, somehow, fix that mistake.

Grantaire let out a sigh and slowly nodded his head. He wouldn't be able to say no. He knew he should be angry – and he was – but this was the Doctor. His Doctor. His angel. She helped him when he was young and scared. He should try to do something decent for a change and return the favor. "Fine. What can we do?"

The Doctor smiled cheerfully at him, and turned around. "Stop that man"

 

( . . . )

 

"OI! YOU." The Doctor shouted, as she ran towards the rather strange man, only stopping when she was standing in front of him. She analyzed him for a second, raising an eyebrow. "The sun is going down and you are drawing a women and a child. Why?"

The man stared at her, slightly startled for a second, and blinked his eyes in confusion. He did not answered her question, his expression turning into a frown as he looked over her shoulders. "Good God, Grantaire."

"Hello." The other replied, waving his hand as he slowly approached them, standing next to the Doctor. She shot him a questioning look and he cleared his throat."This is Joly. He's a friend of mine."

"Grantaire, who is this woman?" Joly asked, tilting his head to the side. “She seems oddly familiar. Where have I seen you before, Mademoiselle?” And making a pause, he turned to Grantaire once again. “She is not another one of your mistress, is she?"

"What? No! She is-"

"Oh my God!” He suddenly exclaimed, scratching his head and smiling cheerfully. “It's her. Of course. How could I ever forget?”

"Just answer her question, please." Grantaire muttered quietly, trying to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks.

His friend went on. "It's her, though, isn't it?. The Doctor. The Raggedy Doctor. She's even wearing the same ripped clothes."

"Yeah, she came back."

"Woman and Child-" The Doctor tried to say again, but was rudely interrupted.

"But she was a story. She was a game, a painting. A fragment of your imagination." Joly continued with his rant, looking from Grantaire to the Doctor with wide eyes. "Just like _Patria_ is a symbolical representation of France for Enjolras, I thought that the _'Raggedy Doctor and her Blue Box'_ was a symbolical representation of your beliefs. I thought that, when you said she had left, you meant it as if all your hopes and dreams left."

"Why, thank you, Joly." Grantaire snarled.

The Doctor rolled her eyes, impatient. No that this conversation wasn't interesting – she was dying to know more. Maybe it would give her a clue of what had happened with Grantaire during the years of her absence. But that was a subject for later. She grabbed Joly by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into her direction. He let out a squeal of surprise and she stared angrily into his eyes, almost as she was demanding something, before speaking. "Woman. Child. Why?"

"Sorry. Because that woman can't be here." Joly replied, slightly scared. "Because she's in-"

"A hospital in a coma." She finished for him, letting go of him before looking around herself. “Wait. Do you guys know what a coma is yet? I don't know. I should know. I don't though. I'm not ready and now it's affecting my brain, oh well.”

Joly cleared his throat, closing his notebook and looking up at the Doctor. “That woman is unconscious in a hospital bed – and so was many others. But I keep seeing them on the streets. I don't know just what kind of sorcery or plague this is, but I'm almost sure it's very very dangerous.”

“You are smart. I like you!” She exclaimed. “Those people are in the hospital. They never left. That is only something disguised as them. Prisoner Zero. Multiform, you see? Disguise itself as anything, but it needs a life feed. A psychic link with a living but dormant mind."

Out of the sudden, there was a buzzing noise. The Doctor looked at the sky, confused. Millions and millions of small sphere-like objects were now filling the air, scanning everything and everyone as they passed by. The citizens, as confused and scared as they could be in 1827, ran towards their houses, hiding themselves from whatever it was and screaming for mercy.

"What's this?" Joly asked, as one approached them.

"See, that ship up there is scanning this area for non-terrestrial technology. And nothing says non-terrestrial like a sonic screwdriver." She explains, taking her sonic device out of her pockets and holding it up. "It's not working well ever since the TARDIS crashed, though. It may pass unnoticed." The Doctor pressed one of the buttons. The sonic screwdriver made a noise, before exploding it. "Well, well, well, just my luck."

"Where is prisoner zero?" Grantaire asked, noticing that the woman and the child were now missing.

"It's hiding in human form. We need to drive it into the open. No TARDIS, no screwdriver, fifteen minutes. Come on, think. Think! Oh!" The Doctor reached out into her pockets and took out her mobile phone. "This will do."

"What are you doing?"

"You'll see." She answered. "Give me your notebook now, please?"

 

( . . . )

 

"So, we are in a hospital." Grantaire commented, looking around. "Why?"

"Prisoner Zero will need another form soon, since we recognized it. 1827 Paris doesn't have much to offer, so he's at the only working hospital with unconscious patients." The Doctor explained, taking a few deep breaths. She looked at her wrist-watch, and burst into one of the hospital wings. Prisoner zero was there, staring at one of the patients.

"Right! Hello. Am I late? No, seven minutes to go. So still time."

"Time for what, Time Lord?" Prisoner zero scoffed.

"Oh, take the disguise off. They'll find you in a heartbeat. Nobody dies."

"The Atraxi will kill me this time. If I am to die, let there be fire." Prisoner zero smiled.

"Okay. You came to this world by opening a crack in space and time. Do it again. Just leave." The Doctor defied, crossing her arms.

"I did not open the crack." It replied.

"Somebody did."

"The cracks in the skin of the universe, don't you know where they came from?" It made a pause. "You don't, do you? The Doctor in the TARDIS doesn't know." Prisoner Zero laughed, clearly amused. "The universe is cracked. The Pandorica will open. Silence will fall."

The Doctor's mobile phone suddenly rang. She took it off his pocket and laughed. "And we're off. Yeah, I know, just a mobile phone. Whatever. But do you know what's happening right now? The Atraxi are searching for each and every kind of technology around here. But it's Paris 1827, so they haven't much to find, have they?" She smiled. "Now, let's say that someone… A time traveler, perhaps… Is not only on the possession of a TARDIS, but also in the possession of the only technological device present in the planet… Now let's say I activated one of the TARDIS special tricks using this phone. Now, the TARDIS is emitting a signal with a word. And the same word is spread all thought this mobile phone. In every single file. Every single contact of this phone..." She held up the phone, grinning. "And do you know what the word is? The word is Zero. Now, me, If I was up in the sky in a battleship, monitoring all Earth and it's non-existent technology, I'd probably take that as a hint. And if I had a whole battle fleet surrounding the planet, I'd be able track a simple mobile phone out of time in, what, under a minute?" The Doctor stopped talking as a bright light filled the room. Prisoner Zero groaned, as the woman clasped her hands together, letting out a laugh. "Aha! And I think they just found us!"

"The Atraxi are limited. While I'm in this form, they'll still be unable to detect me. They've tracked a phone, not me."

"Yeah, but this is the good bit. I mean, this is my favorite bit." The Doctor cheered. "Do you know what this phone is full of? Pictures of you. Well, not exactly pictures. Sketches. Well, pictures of sketches. Every form you've learned to take, right here. Thanks to my good friend here, Joly." She says, taking a step towards the other man and tapping him on the back. She spun around, a victorious smile plastered across her face. "OOo, and being uploaded about now! And the final score is, no TARDIS, no screwdriver, five minutes to spare." She threw her hands into the air cheerfully. "Who 'da man? I mean woman. I mean... Oh, I'm never saying that again. Fine."

"Then I shall take a new form." Prisoner Zero announced.

"Oh, stop it. You know you can't. It takes months to form that kind of psychic link." The Doctor pointed out, with a laugh.

"And I've had years." Prisoner Zero said, turning to look at Grantaire. "Oh, dear little Thomas. I've watched you grow up. Twelve years, and you never even knew I was there." Prisoner Zero let out a laugh. "Little Thomas Grantaire, waiting for his magical Doctor to return. But not this time, Thomas."

Grantaire blinked his eyes in confusion. He felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier by the second. His knees were shaking and so were his hands. He leaned against Joly, taking a deep breath before collapsing into the ground, fast asleep.

Joly gasped in horror and got down on his knees. He checked his friend for a pulse, letting out a sigh of relief when he found it. “He is still alive.”

The Doctor rushed to his side, a worried expression plastered across her face as she sat down on the floor. “Grantaire? You've got to hold on. Grantaire?" She called, shaking him slightly. "Don't sleep! You've got to stay awake, please."

"Doctor?" Joly asked, looking up to Prisoner Zero once again.

The Doctor looked up as well. Prisoner Zero had taken a new form. A medium-sized woman with blonde messy hair and ripped shirt and jeans. "Well, that's rubbish." She commented, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Who's that supposed to be?"

Joly frowned. "It's you."

"Me?" She asked, her voice going a few tones higher. "Is that what I look like?"

"You don't know?" Joly inquired, staring at her wide-eyed.

"Meh. Busy day." She shrugged, before turning to Prisoner Zero once more. "Why me, though? You're linked with him. Why are you copying me?"

As soon as the Doctor asked that, a little boy – Thomas - stepped out from behind her duplicate, holding it's hand. "I'm not." The little boy said. "Poor Grantaire. Still such a child inside. Dreaming of his magic Doctor he knows will return to save him..." He trailed of, with a laugh. "What a disappointment you've been."

"No, he's dreaming about me because he can hear me." The Doctor pointed out. "Listen to me. Please?" She asked sweetly, brushing some of his dark curls away from his face. "Remember the room. The room in your house you couldn't see. Remember you went inside. I tried to stop, but you did. You went in the room. You went inside. Grantaire, dream about what you saw."

Prisoner Zero flinched. "No. No. No!"

The Doctor went on. "Please. Remember what you saw. Please."

Prisoner Zero had now assumed his true form. The Doctor looked up at him and smirked. "Well done, Prisoner Zero. A perfect impersonation of yourself."

The same voice from before echoed through the hospital. _"Prisoner Zero is located. Prisoner Zero is restrained."_

Prisoner Zero groaned once more, looking at the Doctor. "Silence, Doctor. Silence will fall."

She blinked her eyes. "What does that mean?"

Prisoner Zero didn't had the time to reply. There was a burst of light into the room, and soon, he had disappeared.

Joly let out a sigh of relief, running towards one of the windows. He took a look outside, before turning to the Doctor. "The sun. It's back to normal, right? That's, that's good, yeah? That means it's over."

The Doctor nodded her head. Grantaire slowly opened his eyes and sat himself up. He looked around the room slightly confused. "What happened?"

"She did it." Joly answered, grinning. "The Doctor did it."

"No, I didn't." She replied, pressing some buttons on her mobile phone. "Do you guys have a mirror in here, somewhere?"

"Of course, of course. Let met get it for you." Joly answered, quickly rushing out of the room.

Grantaire shot her a look. "What are you doing?"

"Tracking the signal back. I'm giving them a call, as you humans say. Well... Will say." The Doctor pressed the phone against her ear, her face acquiring a serious expression. Joly re-entered the room, holding a full-body mirror. "Oi, I didn't say you could go! Article fifty-seven of the Shadow Proclamation. This is a fully established level five planet, and you were going to burn it?" She scoffed. "What? Did you think no-one was watching? You lot, back here, now." She finished, turning off the phone and putting it back in her pockets. "Okay, now I've done it."

"Did she just bring them back?" Joly asked, slightly scared. "Did she just save the world from those strange things and then bring all those things back again?" He shook his head.

"Where are you going?" Grantaire asked.

"Your garden." And then, seeing her reflection in the mirror Joly had brought her, she shook her head in disapproval. "No, hang on." She spotted some clothes that sat in one of the beds. She quickly made her way to it. Holding in her hands for a few seconds, analyzing it.

It was a dress. The Doctor still wasn't used to dresses, but that would have to do. The dress was sleeveless, quite simple but still beautiful. Not many layers either. It wasn't full of details and she presumed it would look fairly good in her - even without the corset. The only thing she did found to be a problem was the length. She turned to Joly. "I don't suppose you have a scissor in here somewhere...?"

"Here." He said, grabbing one the scissors set in the nightstand next to one of the beds, and handing it to her.

He walked back to stand besides Grantaire. Both boys watched with curiosity as she started to cut off some parts of the dress.

"What are you doing?" Grantaire asked, slightly confused. "Why do you need a dress for?"

"I'm saving the world - I need decent clothes." She told him. Once she had finished cutting of the dress, she looked at them with a smirk. "To hell with the funny. Time to put on a show." The Doctor took her ripped t-shirt off, causing the boys to blush.

"You just summoned strange things back to Earth." Joly said.

"Aliens." The Doctor corrected.

"Actual aliens, deadly aliens, aliens of death." Joly went on, slightly embarrassed. "And now you're taking your clothes off. Grantaire, she's taking her clothes off."

The Doctor sighed, shaking her head. "Turn your back if it embarrasses you."

Joly looked away, slightly flustered. "Are you stealing clothes now? Those clothes belong to people, you know. By god, you don't even know who wore those. They could be contaminated with some sort of bacteria." He informed, before looking at Grantaire. His friend was still staring at the Doctor, a smile on his face. "Are you not going to turn your back?"

"No." Was the only response he got.

 

( . . . )

 

The Doctor was right when she assumed the red dress would look good on her. Both boys judged it to be slightly revealing, with its length now only going to her knees, but she had shrugged it off by saying that this new body of her still wasn't used to dresses, and on top of it, she would have to be able to run if she wanted to get back to Grantaire's garden in time.

And after a minutes of running, indeed, she had arrived at her destination. Leaning against a tree to catch her breath, she heard as the two boys rushed to get to her in time.

Grantaire was the first one to speak. "So this was a good idea, was it? They were leaving."

"Blimey." The Doctor commented. "Leaving is good. Never coming back is better." She took a few steps towards the blue box, and looked at the sky. "Come on, then!" She yelled. "The Doctor will see you now."

The boys were startled when something in the form of a sphere suddenly dropped from the sky, coming in their direction. It stopped in front of the Doctor. It had, Joly concluded after a while, the same format as an eye.

"You are not of this world." The sphere spoke, while it floated in the air.

"No, but I've put a lot of work into it." The Doctor replied, her voice strong and demanding.

The sphere continued. "Is this world important?"

"Important? What does that mean, important?" The Doctor asked, slightly annoyed. "Six billion people live here. Is that important? Here's a better question. Is this world a threat to the Atraxi? Well, come on now, don't be shy. You're monitoring the whole planet. Is this world a threat?"

A flash of light came out from the sphere, and a projection of the planet earth appeared in the form of a hologram. Grantaire and Joly shared a look.

"Are the people of this world guilty of any crime by the laws of the Atraxi?" She demanded again.

"No."

"Okay. One more. Just one." She asked, crossing her arms. "Is this world protected? Because you're not the first lot to come here. Oh, there have been so many." The projection changed. It was now showing holograms of the Daleks, the Cyberman, and many other creatures. "And what you've got to ask is, what happened to them?"

The projection changed again, now showing different portraits. All of them of the Doctor. First, her nine incarnations as a male, and then the last one, her tenth incarnation, a female. The Doctor steps through the projection, adjusting her red dress. She then proceeds to look up at the sphere. A smile on her lips.

"Hello. I'm the Doctor." She said, waving her hand. The smile soon faded away from her face, being replaced by a serious and threatening look. "Basically... Run."

The sphere started to zoom up to where it came from, and soon, there was no trace of spaceship - or aliens - in the sky. There is a brief materialization sound, causing the Doctor to frown. She looked at the TARDIS. It was the same way as she had left it earlier, with the exception that her doors were now, open.

"Is that it?" Joly asked, staring at the sky. "Are them gone for good? Who were they?"

The Doctor paid no attention to him. "Okay, what have you got for me this time?" She asked, as she made her way to her TARDIS. Patting one of the walls, she grinned. "Look at you. Oh, you sexy thing! Look at you." She said, quickly running inside.

"Doctor, wait!" Grantaire called after her. He started to walk towards the blue box, but stopped in his tracks as he saw that it was already disappearing in the air. He shook his head. "Of course." The art student muttered. "Of course."

 

( . . . )

 

"Oh, you are beautiful." The Doctor mused, as she spun around the console room of her newly decorated TARDIS. "Yes, you are. You are amazing." She cheered, pulling down a lever. "What about me, huh? Do I look too different? Not ginger anymore, sadly. I miss being a ginger. It feels different. Maybe that's why I like apples this time." She remarked, before looking at herself. "Oh. I need a shower."

The Doctor disappeared on the insides of the TARDIS. She took some time to take a hot and warm bath, and to pick new clothes for herself. Looking at the mirror when she was done, the Time Lord smiled at her new look. She had long and wavy blonde hair that fell perfectly on her back, just like a waterfall. Her eyes were blue, the same color as her previous self. She was wearing a simple knee-length black dress (It turns out that she had quite enjoyed the experience with dresses) with a white cardigan on top. As for her shoes, she had decided for a pair of simple and comfortable black boots, perfect for running.

She stepped into the console room one more time and looked around, folding her arms. She stops for a moment, standing there. She had no idea about what she was supposed to do next. She had saved the world from the Master and avoided the rise of Gallifrey. Then saved the world one more time from getting incinerated by the Atraxi. Now, what was she supposed to do?

 

( . . . )

Grantaire had been looking out of the window for quite some time now, lost in his own thoughts. The sketch he had been working on for one of his classes was now lying on the ground, and the bottle of wine in his desk was almost empty. His mind was busy, thinking about his raggedy doctor and wondering what would she be doing at the moment.

He was about to turn around and go to his bed when something quite unusual caught his attention. A whirring noise, followed by a blow of wind - as he observed from the window - soon being followed by the familiar blue box appearing out of nowhere. The boy blinked his eyes a few times and smiled.

Grabbing his coat, he ran towards his garden, hoping that she wouldn't disappear this time. When he finally arrived, he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. There she was. The mad Doctor. She came back.

She stepped out of the TARDIS, grinning cheerfully at him. "Sorry about running off earlier." She apologized, tilting her head to the side. "Brand new TARDIS. Bit exciting. I was just going to take a shower first, but I couldn't resist. Had a quick hop to the moon and back to run her in. She's ready for the big stuff now."

"It's you." He said, resisting the urge of hugging her. "You came back."

"Of course I came back. I always come back. Something wrong with that?"

Grantaire shook his head. "Did you kept that dress?"

"Well, I just saved the world. The whole planet, for about the millionth time, no charge. Yeah, shoot me. I kept that dress." She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

He laughed, crossing his arms. "Doctor... Are you from another planet?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

There was a small pause. Both of them stood silent, just looking at each other. The Doctor, of course, was the one to speak first. "So what do you think?" She asked, nervously biting her lower lip. "Other planets. Want to check some out?"

Grantaire blinked his eyes, surprised. "What does that mean?"

"It means..." She trailed of, looking for the right words. "Well, it means come with me."

"Where?" He asked, feeling his heart beating in excitement. He couldn't believe in what she was asking. She, the Doctor, the woman who saved the world, wanted him to come with her.

"Wherever you like."

"All that stuff that happened. The hospital, the spaceships, Prisoner Zero..." He trailed off.

"Oh, don't worry, that's just the beginning. There's loads more."

"Yeah, but those things, those amazing things, all that stuff." He continued, with a frown. "That was two years ago."

"Oh." The Doctor's smile faded away, as she slowly nodded her head. "Oops!"

"Yeah."

"So, It appears that I am late again. Blimey." She commented. "Is that the kind of person I am now? No longer ginger and always late?"

"Fourteen years!" Grantaire glared at her.

"Thomas Grantaire, the boy who waited... You've waited long enough." She grinned, winking at him.

"When I was a kid..." He trailed of, taking a deep breath. "You said there was a swimming pool and a library, and the swimming pool was in the library."

"Yeah. Not sure where it's got to now. It'll turn up... So, coming?"

"No."

The Doctor crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "You wanted to come fourteen years ago."

"I grew up." Grantaire simply said.

"Oh, don't worry." She told him, opening the doors of the TARDIS. "I'll soon fix that."

The Doctor hoped into the blue box, and Grantaire quickly followed her. The doors closed themselves behind him, as he watched for a moment as she happily spun around the console room. Then, he finally took a better look on the insides of the blue box, and found himself to be extremely amazed by what he saw. He laughed, as he took a few steps forward, stopping next to the Doctor.

"Well? Anything you want to say?" She asked, smiling at him. "Any passing remarks? I've heard them all."

"It's smaller on the outside." He said, looking at her.

"Oh." The Doctor said, nodding her head. "I like it better when they say that is bigger on the inside." She didn't let it bother her, though. Shaking her head, she clasped her hands together and turned at him. "So, all of time and space. Everything that ever happened or ever will. Anywhere and Everywhere. Every star that ever was... Where do you want to start?"

"You are so sure that I'm coming." Grantaire remarked, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, I am." She shrugged.

"Why?"

"Because of the twenty minutes." She replied, looking him in the eyes. "Any normal person would just run away and call the police. Especially in 1827. But you didn't. You decided to help me, even though the whole idea was just plain crazy. But I had the confirmation I needed right now. I can see it in your eyes, Grantaire, that you desperately want to come with me."

"Oh, can you?" He scoffed.

"I appeared again after fourteen years and you just ran outside to catch up with me." She mused. "Yeah, you're coming."

There was a beeping sound coming from the TARDIS. The Doctor turned around, only to see a new sonic screwdriver rising from a slot between the levers. "Oh! A new one! Lovely." She grinned, turning around and planting a small kiss in the console. "Thanks, dear."

Grantaire sighed, shaking his head one more time. "Why me?” He asked, slightly frustrated.

"Why not you?"

"No, seriously. You are asking me to run away with you in the middle of the night. It's a fair question." He stated, approaching her. "Why me? "

"I don't know. Fun?" She shrugged. "Do I have to have a reason?"

"People always have a reason."

The Doctor let out a laugh. "Do I look like people?"

"Yes."

"All right. All right." She sighed, folding her arms. "I've been knocking around on my own for a while. My choice, but I've started talking to myself all the time. It's giving me earache. And besides, if there is anything I learned by traveling for so long is that.." She stopped herself for a second, suddenly reminded of one of her previous companions: Rose. The Doctor shook her head, pushing these thoughts away as she looked over at Grantaire, pulling his hand into hers. "Is that the thing you need the most is a hand to hold."

"You're lonely." Grantaire said, slowly nodding his head. 'And so am I' he thought to himself, before speaking again. "That's it? Just that?"

"Just that. Promise."

"Okay."

"So, are you okay, then?" The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because this place, sometimes it can make people feel a bit, you know..."

"I'm fine." He affirmed, smiling at her. "It's just... I was skeptical." He admitted. "And eventually I started to believe that maybe you were just a mad woman with a box."

"Oh, dear Grantaire." The Doctor commented, squeezing his hand, before letting go. "There's something you'd better understand about me, because it's important. And, well, one day your life may depend on it: I am definitely a mad woman with a box." She stated, turning around and pushing one of the levers. "Goodbye Paris. Hello everything!"

Grantaire watched her for a moment with a smile on his face, before looking around the console room once more. There he was. In the TARDIS, with the Doctor. The woman he had longed to meet again for fourteen years. The woman who chose him to be her companion. He knew that, now that found her again, now that he was reunited with his 'Raggedy Woman', his own personal guardian angel, he wouldn't be able to watch her leave him again.

Because each fulfilled the other, in a way. The Doctor, with her need of a company and a hand to hold, and Grantaire, who secretly wished to escape his life. For them to meet was to find, and in the moment they first looked into each others eyes, fourteen years ago, they joined. They were together now. The Doctor and Grantaire. Probably the most unusual pair one could ever imagine, but that was exactly what would make them perfect as a team.

She believed in him and she wanted him around. This woman was ready to let him walk into her life and to show him the universe. She was ready to trust him and to be his friend. She had welcomed him into her TARDIS with joy and excitement, just like someone welcomes a loved one. And maybe that was exactly what Grantaire needed in his life. Someone who trusted and loved him. Someone who saw more to him than _'a child with an active imagination'_. And for the first time in his life, Grantaire found exactly what he had been looking for during so long, without even realizing it. He found a second chance. A new hope for him. He had grew up to be a cynic drunk, but maybe the Doctor could help him fix that.

"Hey!" The Doctor called, from the other side of the room. "Can you pull the stabilizers?"

"What?" He asked, looking at the console with confusion.

She chuckled. "The big blue levers next to the big red button."

He nodded, and she smiled at him, going back to pressing random buttons. "Welcome to your second chance, Grantaire." He muttered to himself, while he pulled the lever as the Doctor had asked. "Welcome to your new life."


	3. Chapter II, Part I: The beast bellow or The one in which Grantaire saves a Starwhale.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something about her. Something in her words, something in her voice... Something in the way her eyes burned with fiery passion and excitement that reminded him of someone very dear to him back home. Someone who saw him as nothing but garbage – his own personal God. His Apollo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two, Part One! How exciting, right? There was a slight delay in the posting because I was having trouble with the HTML and also I had a busy week at home, so I'm very very sorry and I'll try to not let that happen again. Now about this chapter... Well, personally, I found this episode very difficult to write. Everything happens too fast and there's necessary dialogue that couldn't be cut because it will be useful for the plot of the rest of the chapter and later on the story. God knows how much I tried, though.

The TARDIS' doors were open and the light coming from the inside illuminated a small corner of the universe. The Doctor stood in the edges of the amazing blue box, laughing while she held her newest companion by the ankle, in order to prevent him from trespassing the oxygen shell.

> "My name is Thomas Grantaire. When I was seven years old, I had an imaginary friend."

Grantaire laughed cheerfully as he looked around himself, feeling completely amazed by everything surrounding him. He was floating. He was floating in space! He could see the planet earth from where he was, and it seemed so small when compared to the universe itself. The entirety of the darkness that surrounded everything was quite outstanding. Small points of light spread all the way around him and, as he looked up, he couldn't help but wonder just how many planets exactly were out there.

"Come on, Grant!" The Doctor called, interrupting his thoughts.

> "And last night my imaginary friend came back."

**( . . . )**

"Now, do you believe me?" The Doctor asked, as soon as Grantaire had stepped inside the TARDIS.

"Okay, your box is a spaceship." Grantaire breathed, feeling a wave of excitement hit him. "We are in space! In actual space."

The Doctor smiled, leaning against one of the open doors as she had a quick look outside. It felt amazing to have a companion again after such a long time, and it made her more than glad to see that Grantaire was enjoying himself. She knew he wasn't quite ready to forgive her for all those fourteen years, but making him smile... it was a good start, right?

"Where are we, exactly?" Grantaire suddenly asked.

"Now that's an interesting question." She replied, looking down. The TARDIS was standing right above a city floating in space. She turned around, walking towards the controls. "Twenty ninth century, solar flares roast the earth, and the entire human race packs its bags and moves out till the weather improves. Whole nations, migrating to the stars. Isn't that amazing?"

Grantaire raised an eyebrow slightly confused. "Uh... that doesn't actually answer my question."

"I've found us a spaceship." The Doctor chuckled, pulling the TARDIS monitor down. Grantaire slowly approached it, crossing his arms. "This is the United Kingdom of Britain and Northern Ireland. All of it, bolted together and floating in the sky. _Starship UK_ . It's Britain, but metal. That's not just a ship, that's an idea. That's a whole country, living and laughing and... _shopping_ . Searching the stars for a new home."

"Can we go out and see?" He asked, slightly curious.

"Course we can." The Doctor nodded. "But first, there's a thing."

"A thing?"

"An important thing. In fact, Thing One." She announced, pushing one of the levers up and looking directly at the young man. "We are observers only. That's the one rule I've always stuck to in all my travels. I never get involved in the affairs of other people or planets." The image in the monitor changed, now showing a little girl, sitting alone in a corner and crying. "Oh, that's interesting."

"So we're like the bourgeoisie in France?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because whenever they see a starving person, or a sick child, or something.. they don't do anything about it." Grantaire watched the little girl for a few minutes, feeling slightly uneasy. "That's got to be hard. I don't think I could do that. Don't you find that hard – being all, like, detached and cold? But again, I'm not exactly one to talk..."

The Doctor suddenly appeared onscreen and knelt besides a little girl. Grantaire blinks his eyes, and looks around. When exactly had the Doctor left? He asked himself, before leaning closer to the monitor. He watches with curiosity as the little girl gets up and runs away.

The Doctor then proceed to look at the camera, and waved her hand at Grantaire, inviting him to join her. He smiled, grabbing his coat from one of the handrails and running out of the TARDIS.

**

( . . . )

**

" _Welcome to London Market. You are being monitored._ "

The first thing Grantaire noticed when he got out of the TARDIS was the sky. Way above him, there was an arched glass ceiling, through which he could see the stars. He smiled at that sight, before looking around. The London market was composed by a series of stalls and booths, very similar to the ones back in Paris.

"Hey. What took you so long?" The Doctor asked as she approached him, tilting her head to the side.

"I'm in the future. Like hundreds...of years in the future." He commented, his smile slowly turning into a frown. "I've been dead for centuries."

"Oh, lovely. You're a cheery one." She scoffed, taking him by the arm as she started to walk. "Never mind dead, look at this place... Isn't it wrong?"

"What's wrong?"

"Use your eyes, notice everything. What's wrong with this picture?

" _London Market is a crime-free zone._ "

"Everything seems a bit too unusual for me, to be honest." Grantaire sighed.

The Doctor placed a hand on his shoulders, and started."Life on a giant starship, back to basics. Bicycles, washing lines, wind-up street lamps. But look closer... Secrets and shadows, lives led in fear. Society bent out of shape, on the brink of collapse. A police state...Excuse me." She said.

The Doctor smiled at the man who sat on the table, before taking a glass from water that was positioned there. She got onto her knees and set it down on the floor gently, tilting her head to the side, and staring at it with curiosity for a few moments. She exclaims something that Grantaire couldn't quite understand, and got up, putting the glass back on the table.

"Sorry. Checking all the water in this area. There's an escaped fish." She apologized, grinning before going back to Grantaire.

"Why did you just do that with the water?" He asked, blinking his eyes in confusion.

"Don't know. I think a lot. It's hard to keep track." She shrugged. "Now, police state – do you see it yet?"

"Where?"

"There." The Doctor quickly answered, snapping her fingers and pointing at it.

It was the little girl again, sitting alone on a bench and crying.

"One little girl crying." Grantaire stated, raising an eyebrow. "So?"

"Crying silently." She pointed out, biting her lower lip. "I mean, children cry because they want attention, because they're hurt or afraid... When they cry silently, it's because they just can't stop. Any parent knows that."

The young man blinked his eyes. "Are you a parent?"

The Doctor seemed slightly startled and bothered at the question, but she didn't answered. She looked at him for a moment, and shrugged. "Hundreds of parents walking past this spot and not one of them is asking her what's wrong, which means... They already know and it's something they don't talk about." She made a pause. "Secrets. They're not helping her, so it's something they're afraid of. Shadows – whatever they're afraid of – it's nowhere to be seen, which means it's everywhere. Police state."

The little girl got up as she heard the elevator bells, and quickly went inside. The smiling figure in a nearby booth turns and watched her with attention, and the doors closed a moment after. The smiling figure turned it's head back to it's original position.

Grantaire frowned. "Where did she go?"

"Deck 207, Apple Sesame block, Dwelling 54A. You're looking for Mandy Tanner. Oh," The Doctor paused, reaching into the pockets of her cardigan and taking out a colorful wallet. "This fell out of her pocket when I accidentally bumped into her," she explained, handing it to Grantaire. "Took me four goes. Ask her about those things – the smiling fellows in the booths. They're everywhere."

"But they're just.. things."

"They're clean. Everything else here is battered and filthy - look at this place." She pointed out, crossing her arms. "But no-one's laid a finger on those booths. Not a footprint within two feet of them. Ask Mandy, ' _Why are people scared of the things in the booths?'_ ."

"No. Hang on." Grantaire said, shaking his head. "What do I do? I don't even know exactly what am I doing here, I mean..."

"It's this or Paris." The Doctor interrupted. "What do you think? Let's see. What will Thomas Grantaire choose?" She inquired, raising an eyebrow. Grantaire looked at her with a mix of confusion and frustration in his face. "Ha-ha, gotcha!" She exclaimed, before checking on her wrist watch. "Meet me back here in half an hour."

"What are you going to do?"

"What I always do." She shrugged.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. "So is this how it works, Doctor?" He asked. "You never interfere in the affairs of other people or planets, unless there's children crying?"

"Yes. Now, stay out of trouble." She informed, kissing him on the cheek before turning around and walking away.

**

( . . . )

**

"You're following me." Mandy Tanner said, turning around to face Grantaire. "Saw you watching me at the marketplace."

A little bit unsure of what to say, Grantaire – who had been following the girl for a few minutes now – held the wallet into the air. "Uh... You dropped this."

"Yeah, when your friend kept bumping into me." Mandy scoffed, taking her wallet from his hand and putting it on her pocket.

Grantaire awkwardly smiled at her, before looking around the street. Set right in front of a little shop called 'Magpies Electrical', there's was a stripped yellow tent, surrounded by flashing red lights and various _'keep out'_ signs. He tilted his head to the side in amusement. People from the future certainly liked flashy things.

"What's that?" He asked, in amusement.

"There's a hole." Mandy answered, tensing up a bit. "We have to go back."

"A what? A hole?" He asks, with a frown.

"Are you stupid? There's a hole in the road. We can't go that way." She warned, but Grantaire ignored, approaching the tent. "There's a travel pipe down by the airlocks, if you've got stamps. What are you doing?"

"Don't mind me, kid. I never could resist a "keep out" sign." He laughed. "What's through there? What's so scary about a hole?" He asked, sitting on the floor and analyzing the padlock that surrounded the tent.

"Nobody knows." Mandy shrugged, nervously looking at one of the booths on the other end of the street. "We're not supposed to talk about it."

"About what?"

"Below."

"And because you're not supposed to, you don't?" Grantaire scoffed, shaking his head. "Do you heave a hairpin or something?" Mandy gulped and nodded. After taking a pin out of her hair, she hesitantly handed it to Grantaire, who grinned and turned to the lock. "Watch and learn."

"You sound French." She pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"I am French." He replied, while concentrating on the lock. "What's wrong with that? France's got to be here somewhere."

"No. They wanted their own ship."

"Hmm. Good for them. Nothing changes, I guess."

"So...how did you get here?"

The figure in the booth turned around. Now, instead of a smile, it's expression had changed into an angry frown. It was carefully watching Mandy and Grantaire.

"Oh, just passing through, you know, with a girl." He shrugged.

"Your girlfriend?"

"No, of course not. Don't be silly." Grantaire frowned, before sighing. "Oh."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just.. My sister is getting married tomorrow and I'm supposed to be there. Funny how things slip your mind."

"Married?"

"Yes. I had to work hard to get a dowry for her. We never had much to offer, to be honest. Father always liked to spend his money on fancy parties and... well...those women of the night... back when I was a child. Things only got worse after he passed away. I was beginning school, so I had to work to pay for my studies... My sister, Juliette, was living with our oldest sister and her husband when she met her fiance. A good lad he is... but when the news of her engagement came, my oldest sister wrote me a letter, asking for financial help to pay for Juliette’s dowry... I had to go a few days without eating and I almost lost my house to the bank, but at least she is happy now. Happy and getting married."

"When?"

"A long time ago, tomorrow morning?" Grantaire asked, with a shrug. "It's a bit complicated. Don't ask. But I do wonder what I did to escape the ceremony. " The padlock opened, causing him to smile. "Results, at last. Coming?"

"No!"

"Suit yourself."

Grantaire got up to his feet and stretched his back. He looked one last time at Mandy, throwing her the hairpin, before going inside the tent. Mandy looked around nervously, only to see the booth turning around once more, now showing a third face, a scowl.

"Stop!" Mandy exclaimed, desperate. "You mustn't do that!"

It's dark inside the tent. The only illumination form came from a red emergency flashing light. The young man frowned, looking around. He saw a weird device from the floor and reached out for it. As soon as he touched it, the device turned on, a flash of light coming through it.

It should be explained that this 'strange device' found by Grantaire was, in fact, a flashlight. But flashlights were only invented in the _late_ XIX century, and as we already know, the young man came from the _early_ XIX century.

"What a handy little thing." Grantaire cheered, carefully holding it with both hands. He pointed it around and to the floor. The light coming from the device illuminated part of the hole, and he could see something odd reaching out through it, swaying slowly. It reminded him of a tentacle, and that thought alone made the young man shake his head. "Okay... I think I had enough for today." He commented, quickly dropping the device on the floor and stepping out of the tent.

As soon as he did so, Grantaire stopped in his tracks. He was surrounded by a few men, all of them wearing a hood. "Hello?" He asked, a bit uncertain of what to do. "I was just... I was just leaving..." He explained, trying to move.

One of the hooded men held him strongly by the shoulder, and before Grantaire could realize what was happening, the men sprayed something on him – a gas, perhaps. He took a few steps back, feeling dizzy, before falling to the ground, unconscious.

**( . . . )**

The Doctor jumped the few last steps from a ladder, twirling around and smiling to herself, before approaching one of the walls. She trails her fingers through it with curiosity, before pressing her ear on them, listening carefully.

"This can't be right." She commented, taking her brand new sonic screwdriver out of her pockets. She points it to the walls for a moment, trying to get a reading. But nothing. She turned around, feeling slightly confused, when something caught her eye.

A glass of water positioned on the floor.

"Perhaps..." She trailed of, raising an eyebrow. She puts the sonic back into the pockets of her cardigan and approached the glass, laying down on the floor and staring at it with attention.

"The impossible truth in a glass of water." Someone said, in a low tone of voice. The Doctor looked up to see a woman, dressed in red and wearing a white mask. "Not many people see it...But you do, don't you, Doctor?"

The Doctor got up from the ground, staring at the woman with suspicion. "You know me?"

"Keep your voice down. They're everywhere." The woman hissed. "Tell me what you see in the glass."

"Who says I see anything?"

"Don't waste time." The woman warned. "At the marketplace, you placed a glass of water on the floor, looked at it, then came straight here to the engine room... Why?"

"No engine vibration on deck. Ship this size, engine this big, you'd feel it. The water would move. So...I thought I'd take a look." The Doctor explained, turning around and opening a power box, placed next to the ladder. "It doesn't make sense. These power couplings, they're not connected. Look. Look – they're dummies, see?" She asks, crossing the hall and tapping on the wall. "And behind this wall, nothing. It's hollow. If I didn't know better, I'd say there was..."

"No engine at all." The woman completed for him.

"But it's working." The Doctor went on. "This ship is traveling though space. I saw it."

"The impossible truth, Doctor. We're traveling among the stars in a spaceship that could never fly."

"How?"

"I don't know. There's a darkness at the heart of this nation. It threatens every one of us. Help us, Doctor. You're our only hope." She makes a small pause, handing the Doctor a strange device. "Your friend is safe. This will take you to him. Now go, quickly!"

The woman turned around and began to walk away. The Doctor blinked her eyes, slightly confused. "Who are you?" She asks. "How do I find you again?"

The woman stopped on her tracks and turned around, facing her. "I am Liz 10. And I will find you."

There was a loud crashing sound and the Doctor looked around, startled. When she looked back, the woman was gone.

**

( . . . )

**

The first thing Grantaire sees when he wakes up, it's the smiling face inside a booth. He groans, adjusting himself on what seemed to be a chair and rubbing his eyes. Clearing his throat, he finally looks around. There were four monitors positioned in front of him, just like the ones in the TARDIS. Just below the monitors, there were three large buttons. One of them read "Protest", the other "Record", and the last one "Forget".

The monitors suddenly lit up, and a computerized voice started to ring on his ears.

"Welcome to voting cubicle 330C. Please leave this installation as you would wish to find it. The United Kingdom recognizes the right to know of all its citizens. A presentation concerning the history of Starship UK will begin shortly. Your identity is being verified on our electoral roll..." The computerized voice made a slow pause, before finally speaking. "Name: Thomas Grantaire. Age: 5,103."

Grantaire frowned. "Honestly?"

The computer went on: "Marital status: Unknown."

"Fair Enough." He shrugged, leaning back into the chair.

The monitor screens change again, now showing an older man. He had a serious expression on his face and his hands were pressed together. He looked directly at the screen as he starts to talk.

"You are here because you want to know the truth about this starship, and I am talking to you because you're entitled to know. When this presentation has finished, you will have a choice. You may either protest...or forget. If you choose to protest, understand this. If just 1% of the population of this ship do likewise, the program will be discontinued, with consequences for you all. If you choose to accept the situation – and we hope that you will – then press the "forget" button. All the information I am about to give you will be erased from your memory. You will continue to enjoy the safety and amenities of Starship UK, unburdened by the knowledge of what has been done to save you. Here, then, is the truth about Starship UK, and the price that has been paid for the safety of the British people. May God have mercy on our souls."

Images started to flash across the screen, and before Grantaire notices it, he is hitting the "Forget" button. He takes a deep breath and touches his face, feeling slightly disoriented. There were tears rolling down his cheeks. He blinks his eyes and wipes them away.

The monitor changed once again. He looked at the screen, finding himself to be shocked when his image is the one to appear on it.

"This isn't a trick." The image of him says. Grantaire frowned. Why was he crying? "You've got to find the Doctor and get her back to the TARDIS. Don't let her investigate. Stop her. Do whatever you have to. Just please, please get the Doctor off this ship!"

The door behind him opened. Grantaire got up from the chair, only to see Mandy standing there, waiting for him. He takes a deep breath, and turns at the monitor once again. The message started to replay as soon as the Doctor hoped into the room.

"Grantaire?" The Doctor asks, raising an eyebrow. "What have you done?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't find the words to do so. He didn't knew. He didn't knew what he had done. He looked up at the Doctor, fear building up in his eyes as he watched her approach the chair.

She took the sonic screwdriver out of her pocket and pointed it around. First to the chair, then to the monitors – which caused the video to stop replaying – and finally to the lamp above.

"Yeah, your basic memory wipe job." She informed him, putting the sonic back in her pockets. "Must have erased about 20 minutes."

"But why would I choose to forget?" Grantaire asked, confused. "I don't... I don't even know how these works..."

"Because everyone does." Mandy said quietly. "Everyone chooses the "forget" button."

"Did you?" The Doctor asked, turning to Mandy.

"I'm not eligible to vote yet. I'm 12. Any time after you're 16, you're allowed to the see the film and make your choice. And then, once every five years..."

"And once every five years, everyone chooses to forget what they've learned." The Doctor completed, with a sigh. "Democracy in action."

I know someone who would strongly disagree with you, Grantaire thought.

"How do you not know about this?" Mandy asked. "Are you French too?"

"Oh, I'm way worse than French." The Doctor grinned, clasping her hands together and turning to face the monitors. "I can't even see the movie. Won't play for me.

"It played for me." Grantaire pointed out.

"The difference being the computer doesn't accept me as human."

"Why not?" Grantaire inquired. The Doctor shot him a look. "You look human."

"No, you look Time Lord. We came first."

"So there are other Time Lords?"

The Doctor made a small pause, looking at him for a moment and shaking her head. "No. There were, but there aren't... Just me now. Long story. That was a bad day. Bad stuff happened, and you know what?" She asked, with a sigh. "I'd love to forget it all, every last bit of it, but I don't. Not ever. Because this is what I do – every time, every day, every second. This. Hold tight."

"Doctor, what... what is going on?" Grantaire asked, looking at her with confusion in his eyes.

"My dear friend," The Doctor laughed, taking Grantaire's hand in hers and squeezing it lightly. "We're bringing down the government."

He blinked in surprise. There was something about her. Something in her words, something in her voice... Something in the way her eyes burned with fiery passion and excitement that reminded him of someone very dear to him back home. Someone who saw him as nothing but garbage – his own personal God. _His Apollo_ .

He had no time to dwell in that, however. The Doctor suddenly smashed the "Protest" button using his hand, and everything happened a little bit to fast for his taste. The doors slammed shut, leaving the little girl, Mandy, locked outside. The figure in the booth turned itself around, the smiling face being replaced by an expression of fury. The Doctor stepped away to one of the corners of the room, pulling Grantaire along with her.

"Doctor?" He asked, starting to feel scared as the floor beneath them started to open. "What's going on?"

"Say, _Wheee! _” She cheered, smiling with glee.__

__Grantaire only had the time to scream before they fell down._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More things to come next chapter - which is slightly longer - and updates being changed to every Friday. I hope you enjoyed this chapter – even though is basically a mess... And please, leave some feedback. A kudos, a comment, anything would be much appreciated.


	4. Chapter II, Part Two:  The Best Bellow or The One In Which Grantaire Saves a Starwhale.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a normal situation, Grantaire would back away. He would find the nearest bar and drink himself into oblivion. At least, that's what he did when Apollo acted that way towards him. He drank to forget. The young man suddenly felt the urge to do so. To forget. But he wouldn't do that. Forgetting was what put him into that place.
> 
> This wasn't a normal situation and this wasn't Apollo. He was in a spaceship, on the thirtieth-second century and this was the Doctor. His Doctor. His raggedy woman. His whole life, somehow, orbited around her. He had waited so long for her to come back for him. He wouldn't let just a small mistake push her away. Not now. Not ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two, Part Two. Many apologies on my delay – my building was going through some reforms and the internet was down for almost two weeks. This chapter goes slower than the last one and there are many clues regarding the future of the plot hidden in it. Have fun :)

"Where are we?"

The Doctor was the first one to stand up. She looked around for a moment, trying to figure out where exactly had they ended up in this time. Pulling her hair back, she reached into her pockets to get her sonic screwdriver, pointing it around for a few moments. She let out a yelp of excitement when she got a reading.

"High-speed air cannon. Lousy way to travel." She informed him. "We are 600 feet down, 20 miles laterally – puts us at the heart of the ship. I'd say... Lancashire. What's this, then – a cave? Can't be a cave. Looks like a cave."

"Seems more like a sewer to me." Grantaire commented, pulling himself up and taking a piece of what he judged to be lettuce out of his shoulders.

"Yes. Perhaps a sewer, but only for food." She pointed out, raising her eyebrows. "Organic, coming through feeder tubes from all over the ship... But feeding what, though?"

"The walls and the floor... It feels wet and slimy... and a little bit shaky?"

The Doctor opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a distant moaning sound. Her expression changed into a frown and she curses under her breath. "Er... It's not a floor, it's a..." She made a pause, scratching the back of her head with her free hand. "So..."

"It's a what?" Grantaire asked, frowning.

"The next word is kind of the scary word. Take a moment. Get yourself in a calm place." She instructed, placing an arm over his shoulders and squeezing it lightly. "Go _'omm'_ ."

"Why?"

"It's a calming mantra. Trust me, just do it.”

The young man hesitated for a moment but decided it would be best just to do as she says. Taking a deep breath, he began: "Omm."

"Good. Good. Keep going." She smiled at him. "It's a tongue."

He stopped, staring at her in fear. "A Tongue?"

"A tongue." She nodded. "A great big tongue."

"This is a mouth?" He asked, his voice going a pitch higher. "This whole place is a mouth? We're in a mouth?! A MOUTH??!"

"Yes, yes, yes, but on the plus side, roomy." The Doctor gave him a thumbs up, before twirling around and clasping her hands together. "How big is this beastie? It's gorgeous! Blimey! if this is just the mouth, I'd love to see the stomach." She rambled, letting a chuckle escape her lips. There was a grouting noise in response to that. "Though not right now."

"Doctor...” Grantaire started, trying to calm himself down. His heart was pounding on his chest and he was trying his best not to panic. “How do we get out?"

"Well, it's being fed through surgically implanted feeder tubes, so the normal entrance is..." She turned around, using her sonic to light the way. Grantaire turned around as well, only to see sharped teeth. "closed for business."

"We can try, though." He said, taking a step ahead.

"No! Stop, don't move!" The Doctor warned. The whole mouth began to vibrate, and the tongue began to move iteself. "Too late. It's started."

"What has?"

"Swallow reflex."

Trying not to lose her balance and fall, the Doctor pointed her sonic screwdriver on the mouth walls, a high-pitched noise echoing through them.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm vibrating the chemo-receptors."

"Chemo-what?"

"The eject button."

"What?"

"Something to get us out of here!"

"How are we getting out of here?"

"Think about it!"

The creature growled. Grantaire looked behind him, only to see an enormous wave of something he did not quite recognized ( _'bile'_ , as the Doctor explained to him a while later) coming towards them.

"Right, then." The Doctor says, with a deep breath. "This isn't going to be big on dignity. Geronimo!"

Grantaire yelled for the second time that day, before feeling his whole body being immersed in bile.

**( . . . )**

They were back inside the starship now, much to Grantaire's pleasure. He stood up and stretched his back – this adventure was being quite dangerous and grotesque, and he was beginning to wish he could wake up and find himself in his bed back in Paris. He took a deep breath, but stopped himself – wherever they were, it didn't smelled so good.

The Doctor was up to her feet right after their "bumpy landing". Wishing to get the explaining done as soon as possible, she snapped her fingers, which caused her companion to look at her. "Right. Quick. There's nothing broken, there's no sign of concussion and yes, you are covered in sick."

"Where are we?"

"Overspill pipe, at a guess."

"Oh, God.” Grantaire muttered, greeting his teeth. “It stinks."

"Oh, that's not the pipe."

He shifted uncomfortably, before smelling his own arm. He grimaced, not very happy to know that the bad smell, in fact, was coming from him. This adventure was officially awful and he knew things just couldn't get worse. Deciding he was done with the big questions for one day, he sighed. "Can we get out?"

"One door, one door switch, one condition." The Doctor says, moving over to examine the door. "We forget everything we saw." The lights turned themselves on, revealing two booths with the smiling faces. "Ooh, here's the stick. There's a creature living in the heart of this ship. What's it doing there?" The faces on the booth turned themselves around, now with a frowning expression. The Doctor scoffed. "No, that's not going to work on me, so come on. Big old beast below decks, and everyone who protests gets shoved down its throat. That’s how it works?" The faces turned themselves around once more, the expression changed to fury. "Oh, stop it. I'm not leaving and I'm not forgetting and what are you fellows going to do about it? Stick out your tongues?"

The booths suddenly opened themselves, and the faces stood up – surprisingly revealing to have bodies. They stared at the duo for a moment, before starting to walk towards them.

"Doctor?" Grantaire asked, as they took a few steps back.

Before she could say anything else, the strange woman from earlier appeared in front of them, shooting the faces with her laser gun. Grantaire watched in amazement as she twirled her gun in her hand, and turned around to face them.

"Look who it is." The Doctor cheered, smiling. "You look a lot better without your mask."

Liz 10 smiled at the Doctor, before turning to the young man. "You must be Grantaire. Liz. Liz 10."

"Hi." He smiled, as the woman took his hand on hers, shaking it.

"Eurgh!" Liz 10 commented, wiping her hand on her cloak. "Lovely hair, Grantaire. Shame about the sick." She said, heading towards the door. Mandy was standing there, looking at everything with curiosity and fear. Liz put a protective arm around the smaller girl. "You know Mandy, yeah? She's very brave."

"How did you find us?" The Doctor inquired.

"Stuck my gizmo on you." She replied, throwing him some sort of device. "Been listening in. Nice moves on the hurl escape. So, what's the big fella doing here?"

"You're over 16, you've voted." The Doctor pointed out. "Whatever this is, you've chosen to forget about it."

"No. Never forgot, never voted. Not technically a British subject."

"Then who and what are you, and how do you know me?"

"You're a bit hard to miss, love. Mysterious stranger, MO consistent with higher alien intelligence, hair of an idiot..." Seeming slightly offended, the Doctor runs her hand through her soaked hair. "I've been brought up on the stories. My whole family was."

"Your family?"

One of the booths began to move once again. Liz sighed. "They're repairing. Doesn't take them long. Let's move."

**( . . . )**

"The Doctor." Liz 10 began to explain, as they headed down a corridor. "Old drinking buddy of Henry XII. Tea and scones with Liz II. Vicky was a bit on the fence about you, weren't she? Knighted and exiled you on the same day." Grantaire shot her a look, seeming slightly confused. Liz 10 made a pause, patting the Doctor on the back. "And so much for the Virgin Queen, you bad, bad girl!"

The Doctor blushed and quickly cleared her throat. "Liz 10?"

"Liz 10, yeah. Elizabeth X. And down!" She warned. Grantaire, the Doctor, and Mandy ducked, as Liz turned around and shot one of the booths that were coming towards them. She smiled, before continuing. "I'm the bloody Queen, mate. Basically, I rule."

They passed another corridor, which lead to some sort of base. Grantaire quickly looked around, raising an eyebrow when he recognized one of the creatures he saw earlier trapped inside a cage.

"There's a high-speed Vator through there." Liz said, looking at Grantaire. "Oh, yeah. There's these things. Any ideas?"

"Doctor, I saw one of these up top. There was a hole in the road, like it had burst through, like a root." He said, crossing his arms.

"Exactly like a root. It's all one creature - the same one we were inside - reaching out." The Doctor pointed out, with a frown. "It must be growing through the mechanisms of the entire ship."

"What? Like an infestation?"

"Someone's helping it. Feeding it."

"Feeding my subjects to it." Liz snapped. "Come on. We've got to keep moving." She said, storming off in anger.

"Doctor?" Grantaire asked, watching with curiosity as the Doctor stared at one of the cages, a sad look plastered across her face.

"Oh, Grantaire." She sighed, tilting her head to the side. "We should never have come here."

The young man was suddenly reminded of the video message he recorded.

**( . . . )**

Grantaire was still holding a towel in his hands. Thankfully, Liz 10 had allowed them a quick trip to the bathroom, where he took an eight-minutes long shower and washed his hair from all the sick – he found those electrical showers to be an amazing and incredibly useful invention, but decided he would have more time to reflect upon that later. Once he had stepped out, the clothes he had been wearing before had been cleaned and dried by a modern washing machine – and again, amazing and useful.

The Doctor took slightly more time than he did, but once she stepped out of the bathroom, she was looking impeccable. Her wet blonde hair was flowing freely through her back and her blue eyes contained a hint of sadness. Her clothes had also been washed and dried, and she was trying to fit several objects inside of the bigger-on-the-inside pockets of her cardigan – which seemed to have shrunk due to the washing machine.

This resulted on Grantaire carrying a few random objects in his own pockets – a small knife, many keys, a handkerchief, hallucinogenic lipstick and what seemed to be a small detonation device. Thankfully, as the mad woman explained, that detonation device could only be activated by voice. It made him slightly more relaxed, but he would still took an extra care with it. Until now, dangerous types of technology had proved themselves to be not quite fond of him.

Grantaire watched the Doctor with curiosity as they walked down the hallway, following Liz 10. She had an expression of hurt plastered across her face, which she tried to hide with a smile whenever someone spoke to her. The young man sighed. He didn't knew what exactly was going on or what exactly the problem was, but one thing he was sure of. The Doctor was right. They should have never come to this place.

"This is my room." Liz announced, as she opened one door.

The group stepped inside, taking a good look around. The floor was filled with glasses of water, so they carefully stepped through it, trying to not bump into anything.

"Why all the glasses?"

Liz took a seat on her bed and looked at them. "To remind me every single day that my government is up to something, and it's my duty to find out what."

"A queen going undercover to investigate her own kingdom?" The Doctor asked, taking the mask from one of the nightstands.

"Secrets are being kept from me. I don't have a choice. Ten years I've been at this - my entire reign - and you've achieved more in one afternoon."

"How old were you when you came to the throne?"

"40. Why?"

"What, you're 50 now?" Grantaire asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "No way!"

"Yeah, they slowed my body clock. Keeps me looking like the stamps."

The Doctor was staring at the mask in her hands with interest. "And you always wear this in public?"

"Under cover’s not easy when you're me." She sighed. "The autographs, the bunting."

"Air-balanced porcelain." The Doctor pointed out. "Stays on by itself because it's perfectly sculpted to your face."

"Yeah. So what?"

"Oh, Liz. So everything." She sighed.

The doors of the room opened, and the hooded men from before, the ones who got a hold in Grantaire earlier, entered. Liz 10 got up to her feet, feeling outraged and betrayed. "What are you doing?" She demanded. "How dare you come in here?"

"Ma'am, you have expressed interest in the interior workings of Starship UK. You will come with us now." One of them informed, bowing his head.

"Why would I do that?" She asked, once again. "I am your queen. On whose authority is this done?"

"The highest authority, Ma'am."

"I AM the highest authority."

"Yes, ma'am. You must go now, Ma'am."

"Where?"

"The Tower, Ma'am."

**( . . . )**

Their group was escorted into a larger room, filled with high-technology machines and monitors. There were more cages spread across the room, filled with even more creatures. Something didn't felt right, though.

"Doctor, where are we?" Grantaire asked, looking at her.

"The lowest point of Starship UK." She replied, spinning around to have a better look. "The dungeon."

"Ma'am." A Grey-haired man said, bowing his head.

"Hawthorne!" Liz exclaimed. "So this is where you hid yourself away. I think you've got some explaining to do."

"There's children down here." The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. "What's all that about?"

"Protesters and citizens of limited value are fed to the beast." Hawthorne explained. "For some reason, it won't eat the children. You're the first adults it's spared. You're very lucky."

"Yeah, look at us. Torture chamber of the Tower of London. Lucky, lucky, lucky." She scoffed, moving over to examine the equipments. "Except it's not a torture chamber, is it? Well, except it is. Except it isn't. Depends on your angle."

She walked over to Liz, who was looking through an open well. There seemed to be something alive inside of it.

"What's that?" Liz inquired.

"Well, like I say, depends on the angle." The Doctor sighed. "It's either the exposed pain center of big fella's brain, being tortured relentlessly..."

"Or?"

"Or it's the gas pedal, the accelerator—Starship UK's go-faster button."

"I don't understand."

"Don't you?" The Doctor asked, seeming rather angry. "Try, go on. The spaceship that could never fly, no vibration on deck. This creature - this poor, trapped, terrified creature. It's not infesting you, it's not invading - it's what you have instead of an engine. And this place down here is where you hurt it, where you torture it, day after day, just to keep it moving. Tell you what." She made a pause, moving to another well and lifting it's grate. "Normally, it's above the range of human hearing. This is the sound none of you wanted to hear." She reached for her screwdriver and pointed at the creature. A loud screeching sound echoes through the room.

"Stop it. " Liz commanded, turning to Hawthorne. "Who did this?"

"We act on instructions from the highest authority."

"I am the highest authority. The creature will be released, now. I said now!" Liz screamed, but no one moved. "Is anyone listening to me?"

"Liz. Your mask." The Doctor pointed out, crossing her arms.

"What about my mask?" She asks, looking at Mandy. The little girl - who had been holding the mask ever since they left Liz's room, handed it carefully to her.

"Look at it." The Doctor instructed. "It's old. At least 200 years old, I'd say."

"Yeah, it's an antique, so?"

"Yeah, an antique made by craftsmen over 200 years ago and perfectly sculpted to your face." The Doctor started. "They slowed your body clock, all right, but you're not 50. Nearer 300. And it's been a long old reign."

"Nah, it's ten years. I've been on this throne ten years."

"Ten years. And the same ten years over and over again..." She trailed of, taking Liz by the hand and walking towards another machine. "Always leading you here." She said. Liz looked at the machine, and the only thing that caught her attention were the two buttons. "Forget" and "Abdicate".

Liz turned to Hawthorne. "What have you done?"

"Only what you have ordered. We work for you, Ma'am. The Winders, the Smilers, all of us." He replied, pressing a button and turning on a monitor.

A recording of Liz appeared on the screen. "If you are watching this...If I am watching this, then I have found my way to the Tower Of London. The creature you are looking at is called a Star Whale. Once, there were millions of them. They lived in the depths of space and, according to legend, guided the early space travelers through the asteroid belts. This one, as far as we are aware, is the last of its kind. 'And what we have done to it 'breaks my heart." The Doctor, Hawthorne, Grantaire and Mandy were watching it in silence. "The Earth was burning. Our sun had turned on us, and every other nation had fled to the skies. Our children screamed as the skies grew hotter. And then it came, like a miracle. The last of the star whales. We trapped it, we built our ship around it, and we rode on its back to safety. If you wish our voyage to continue, then you must press the "forget" button." Liz looked at the buttons. "Be again the heart of this nation, untainted. If not, press the other button. Your reign will end, the Star Whale will be released, and our ship will disintegrate. I hope I keep the strength to make the right decision."

"I voted for this?" Grantaire scoffed, turning to look at the Doctor. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you knew if we stayed here, I'd be faced with an impossible choice. Humanity or the alien." She turned around to face Grantaire, her eyes burning with rage. "You took it upon yourself to save me from that. And that was wrong. _You don't ever decide what I need to know._ "

"I don't even remember doing it."

"You did it. That's what counts."

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "Doctor, please. I'm sorry, I-"

" _I don't care._ When I'm done here, you're going home." She said, turning around and walking towards some of the high-technology panels.

Grantaire stiffened, feeling slightly hurt by the tone of voice that she used with him. The way she looked at him at that moment, with disgust and disappointment, had been enough for him to back away. He felt sick on the stomach for the first time that day and he didn't dared to say anything else.

Of course, it was not the first time someone had looked at him that way. He was quite used to that, thanks to his Apollo. What truly hurt him, however, was the fact that it was the Doctor using it with him. The same woman who had seen something more in him than a useless drunkard, the same woman who put up with him rambling about how he couldn't believe that she had actually a spaceship... She was disappointed with him. She had given him a new chance, a new start... And he let her down.

In a normal situation, Grantaire would back away. He would find the nearest bar and drink himself into oblivion. At least, that's what he did when Apollo acted that way towards him. He drank to forget. The young man suddenly felt the urge to do so. To forget. But he wouldn't do that. Forgetting was what put him into that place.

This wasn't a normal situation and this wasn't Apollo. He was in a spaceship, on the thirtieth-second century and this was the Doctor. His Doctor. His raggedy woman. His whole life, somehow, orbited around her. He had waited so long for her to come back for him. He wouldn't let just a small mistake push her away. Not now. Not ever.

"Why?" He suddenly asked, walking over to her. "Because I made a mistake? One mistake? I don't even remember doing it, Doctor!"

"Yeah. I know." The Doctor said, not taking her eyes off the panel. "You're only _human_ ."

"What are you doing?" Liz asked, approaching her as well.

"The worst thing I'll ever do. I'm going to pass a massive electrical charge through the Star Whale's brain. Should knock out all its higher functions, leave it a vegetable. The ship will still fly, but the whale won't feel it."

"That'll be like killing it." Grantaire pointed out.

"Look, three options." She said, looking into his eyes. "One: I let the Star Whale continue in unendurable agony for hundreds more years. Two: I kill everyone on this ship. Three: I murder a beautiful, innocent creature as painlessly as I can..." She trailed of, taking a deep breath. "And then I find a new name, because I won't be the Doctor any more."

"There must be something we can do, some other way."

"Nobody talk to me." She warned, slamming her hands on the panel as she looked at them with anger in her eyes. "NOBODY HUMAN HAS ANYTHING TO SAY TO ME TODAY!"

Grantaire shook his head. He couldn't let the Doctor do that. He wouldn't let the Doctor do that. But how? How could he help?

"Timmy!" Mandy exclaimed, as three different children entered the room. "You made it, you're OK!"

The three children had stopped in front of one of the creatures - that were actually, only the star whale tentacles. One of the tentacles reached towards Mandy. The little girl took a step back, in fear, but instead of hurting her, the tentacle gently approached and tapped her on the back. Mandy hesitated, but after a few seconds, she and the other three children were carefully petting the star whale tentacles.

Grantaire, upon watching this scene, begins to understand.

> "C’mon, use your eyes. Notice everything. Notice everything" 

He remembered what Liz 10 and Hawthorne explained, his mind working fast.

> "Our children screamed. It came, like a miracle."
> 
> "It won't eat the children."
> 
> "Children screamed. Then it came. It's the last of its kind."

He finally remembered the Doctor, when asked about other Time Lords.

> "No. Just me now."
> 
> "The last of its kind."
> 
> "Is this how it works, Doctor? Never interfere with other peoples or planets..."
> 
> "Children screamed."

He remembered meeting the Doctor when he was nothing but a child. He remembered how she helped him when he was scared.

> "...unless it's children crying."
> 
> "The last of its kind."
> 
> "Just me now."
> 
> "Unless there's children crying."
> 
> "Yes."
> 
> "It won't eat the children."
> 
> "Then it came. Like a miracle. The last of the Star Whales."

"DOCTOR, STOP." He yells, turning to the Doctor. "Whatever you're doing, stop it now!" He looks around, taking Liz 10's hand. "Sorry, Your Majesty, going to need a hand." He says, leading her to the buttons.

The Doctor looked up. "Grantaire. Grantaire, no. Stop!"

Grantaire used Liz's hands to press the "abdicate" button. There is a small pause, as everything starts to shake uncontrollably.

"Grantaire, what have you done?" The Doctor asks, looking around in worry.

"Nothing at all." He replied, letting Liz 10 out of his grasp. "Am I right?"

"We've INCREASED speed." Hawthorne cried from a corner.

"You've stopped torturing the pilot. Gotta help." Grantaire said, with a smile.

"It's still here?" Liz asked, with a frown. "I don't understand."

"The Star Whale didn't come like a miracle all those years ago. It volunteered. You didn't have to trap it or torture it - that was all just you. It came because it couldn't stand to watch your children cry." He started to explain, feeling slightly relieved for being right. "What if you were really old, and really kind and alone? Your whole race dead, no future. What couldn't you do then? If you were that old, and that kind, and the very last of your kind..." He turned around, now facing the Doctor. "You couldn't just stand there and watch children cry."

**( . . . )**

The Doctor found herself standing alone on the Starship's observation deck, staring through a massive window glass, contemplating the stars with a calm and yet severe expression. Grantaire watched her for a moment, slightly nervous, before slowly walking up to her.

"From Her Majesty." He commented, showing her the mask. "She says there will be no more secrets on Starship UK."

"Grantaire, you could have killed everyone on this ship." The Doctor said, not taking her eyes of the window.

"You could have killed a Star Whale."

"And you saved it." She nodded. "I know."

"Amazing, though, don't you think? The Star Whale. All that pain and misery... and loneliness." Grantaire started, looking at her. "And it just made it kind."

"But you couldn't have known how it would react."

"You couldn't, perhaps." He pointed out. "But I've seen it before. Very old and very kind, and the very, very last. Sound a bit familiar?"

There was a pause between the two of them. The Doctor let out a small laugh, before turning to Grantaire and wrapping her arms around him. He blinked his eyes, feeling slightly startled by her action, but hugged her back nonetheless.

"Hey?" He suddenly called.

"What?"

" _Gotcha_ ."

The Doctor's smile got even wider, as she sighed and buried her face in his shoulders.

  
**( . . . )**

"Shouldn't we say goodbye?" Grantaire asked, as they headed back to the TARDIS. "Won't they wonder where we went?"

"For the rest of their lives. Oh, the songs they'll write!" The Doctor grinned, twirling around. "Never mind them. Big day tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Grantaire asked, suddenly remembering his sister's wedding once again.

"It’s always a big day tomorrow." She shrugged. "We've got a time machine. I skip the little ones." She told him, unlocking the TARDIS doors and running inside.

Grantaire laughed, following her in, as the same time a phone began to ring.

"What's that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, right. You're from 1829, you don't know what a phone is yet." The Doctor realized, turning around and pushing some buttons. "It's basically a device that allows you to talk with other people. You press it against your ear, and you are able to hear and talk to whoever you want."

"And people... phone you?"

"Well, it's a telephone box." The Doctor pointed out, pushing down a lever, as the phone kept on ringing. "Would you mind getting that?"

"The phone?"

"Yeah. It's your first time, so go easy. Say hello when you pick up." She warned. "It's the purple thing, with the purple wire... It's easy to recognize because it's the only purple thing on the controls."

Grantaire nodded his head and walked towards the telephone. He hesitated for a moment, before carefully picking it up and pressing against his ears, as the Doctor said.

"Hello? Sorry, who? No, seriously. Who?" He asked, suddenly taking the phone of his ears. "Er... Says he's Prime Minister." He informed her, before frowning. "First the Queen, now the Prime Minister. Get about, don't you?"

"Which Prime Minister?" She asks, pulling up another lever and happily twirling around the room.

Grantaire turned to the telephone again. "Er, which Prime Minister?" He asked, before turning to the Doctor once more. "The British one."

"Which British one?"

"Which British one?" He asks, before taking the phone out of his ears and handing it to the Doctor. "Winston Churchill for you."

The Doctor grinned, picking up the phone and leaning against the controls. "Oh! Hello, dear. What's up?"

" _Tricky situation, Doctor. Potentially very dangerous... I think I'm going to need you._ "

"Don't worry about a thing, Prime Minister." She replied, reaching out with her free hand to press a button. "We're on our way."

> "In bed above, we're deep asleep  
> While greater love lies further deep.  
> This dream must end, this world must know.  
> We all depend on the beast below." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can see, HTML really confuses me. Oh dear. Anyway, next chapter is going to be an original chapter – no adventures, though. It's going to be somewhat of an interlude, in which we see what exactly is going through Grantaire's mind and how well is he reacting to all that technology. Also there is a small reflection between the parallels he sees between the Doctor and Enjolras, but let's leave that for next Friday, shall we? Thanks everyone for reading, commenting, giving kudos and bookmarking. I was so happy when I opened this story this morning to see all of that! Thank you very much (and keep them coming, guys. Keep them coming!) and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Have a nice weekend.


	5. Chapter III - The One In Which Something Needs To Be Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pondered over the possibility of talking to the Doctor about it – but something told him that it would not be the best idea. Keeping it to himself would be better, at least for now.
> 
> The Doctor already has many things on her mind at the moment, he thought, before walking out of the room. She shouldn’t to worry about me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, this chapter had a small delay of a week and two days - and it was completely my fault. I am very sorry. I simply got too caught up in the writing of a few future chapters. Won't happen again, I promise. On this chapter, we see what is going through Grantaire's sleepy-mind - this is why things will happen fast and sound slightly confused and make no sense at times. We are entering his thoughts, folks! Well, I will say no more. 
> 
> I would like to thank everyone who commented, bookmarked, left a kudos are simply read this. Writing this fanfic is my favorite thing to do in the world and it makes me very happy to see that people are enjoying it. So thank you. Thank you very much. (And please, keep them coming!!).
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and again, I am very sorry for the delay.

Grantaire lied down on the bed of his new room at the TARDIS and let a yawn escape from his lips. He had just taken one of those showers and changed into some more modern clothes – _“A jacket made of leather, how peculiar!”_ \- and all that was left for him to do at the moment was relax and await for the Doctor’s appearance.

His new room was quite far away from the console room and he had expressed his concern about getting lost on the way back. The Doctor had replied with a chuckle and the promise that she would “pick him up” and give him a tour before they went to see that Winston Churchill figure, once again in the future.

“The future...” He whispered to himself, a smile appearing on his lips. Those last twenty-four hours had been amazing. He never thought he would live to see Paris on the next month – he was sure that alcohol poisoning would take his life away one of these days – but yet, he jumped in a blue box and saw what the world was going to look like in almost two thousand years from now. Except it was not a world, but a spaceship.

He chuckled. This whole adventure seemed like one those things he would tell to Joly, Bahorel and Bossuet in a calm Sunday night while they played dominoes and drunk wine, while listening to one of Combeferre’s speeches about equality between men and women. Bossuet would probably laugh and call him mad. Bahorel would say alcohol was messing with his imagination. Joly would only laugh and find it an amazing happening. He had met the Doctor before, so he knew how true his words were.

_If only they could see him now._

Grantaire felt his heart sink in his chest when he thought about his friends back at home. He did not knew how long exactly would he be travelling with the Doctor – but he knew he was going to miss his friends terribly. A part of him wished for them to be in the TARDIS as well, sharing the adventure of a life time with him. But they were happy back in Paris and that’s where they belonged. Fighting for their country and striving for a better future.

Grantaire had never been happy in Paris before, however. As much as he enjoyed many activities and explored every corner of the city, the only moments of happiness and light in his life took place whenever he was in the company of his friends. But now things have changed for him.

Travelling with the Doctor made him happy. He felt as something had awoken within his heart. A new found joy, a purpose. Saving universes, seeing many wonders, learning about different cultures. It was exciting and new, but with an odd hint of _Deja Vu_ . He was reunited with his guardian angel at last and that was exactly where he belonged.

“Enjolras would be proud.” He commented to himself, rubbing his eyes.

_Enjolras._ That name alone was enough to send shivers down his spine. The leader in red, who for so long had been everything that Grantaire loved and admired. His Apollo. His God of Light. Would he be surprised to hear about the recent adventures? Would he be happy? Would he be missing him? What would he think of the Doctor?

One thing he was sure of: Enjolras would be impressed – intimidated, even – by the amount of knowledge and odd behaviour the Doctor possessed. He would definitely want to hear more about her ideas, if only he could look past the fact that she was a woman.

And perhaps the Doctor would be impressed by Enjolras’ own qualities as well. She admired humans with brilliant minds – and the way Enjolras mind worked was somewhat of a mystery to Grantaire. An encounter between those two figures would definitely be interesting.

_They are similar opposites_ , he concluded, rubbing his eyes.

They were driven mostly by emotion and duty. They were not afraid of consequences and they laughed on the face of danger, quite literally. The same disrespect for authority figures were also present in both of them – not to mention the tendency for finding trouble anywhere. There were a fiery passion inside the eyes of both of them – it was there for different reasons, but it delivered the same message: It did not mattered how many troubles they may find or battles they may lose, they would never stop fighting. Fighting for the population – for the right to live.

Only for Enjolras, the “population” classified as the beggars and workers of France that could barely survive with what they managed to receive in a day. His responsibility and his heart lied with his country. He loved the people but he would never forgive his enemies. He did not tolerated a mistake. His dark side was in perfect balance with his good side – adding it with his anger and natural short-temper, it made him the perfect soldier.

For the Doctor, everyone deserved a chance to live. Every being in the universe, every creature, no matter how small or big they were. Poverty and social classes were not her main concern, for she had much more important things on her mind. She carried the universe on her shoulders and not once she complained. She knew that it was not possible to save everyone and the weight of this knowledge constantly broke her hearts.

Enjolras represented ideals: and that was everything he stood for. The country he dreamed and talked about was what one could call _Utopia_ . An ideally perfect place, an impractical, idealistic scheme for social and political reform. His fantasy of a new world would never come true. For as long as there were greed and envy in the heart of men, there would be violence, wars and poverty. It was simple work of logic.

The Doctor represented the reality: she had been travelling for a long time and she had seen many things. But independent of governments or social issues, she once made the vow to protect the universe at all costs and that’s exactly what she did. She saved people, planets, species – she made difference.

_Enjolras was light_ – bringing the promise to end even the darkest of days.

_The Doctor was like fire, ice and rage. Like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun_ – she was the solution and the cause to many problems. She was ancient and forever. She burned at the center of time itself and she was one of the universe’s greatest mysteries.

Grantaire quickly sat up on the bed and blinked his yes several times, his head was pounding with a sudden headache. Groaning, he rubbed his temples. Something felt different – something felt very different. It was almost as he had forgotten something important. Something he should remember – something he needed to remember. Something related to the Doctor, perhaps?

_What was he thinking about, anyway?_

Scratching the back of his head, he sighed. His stomach made a rumbling sound and he rolled his eyes, once again groaning. He did not remembered the last time he had ate something – maybe that was the cause for his brand new headache. Maybe there was nothing he had forgotten – maybe he was simply paranoid.

_“YOU NEED TO REMEMBER!”_ A voice screamed into his head and he flinched. It was his voice. At least it sounded like his voice – or maybe someone with a similar voice, screaming at the back of his mind. His subconscious-self, perhaps? _“YOU NEED TO REMEMBER!”_ It repeated itself, only louder this time.

Grantaire shut his eyes close and got up from the bed – he felt almost as he had lost control of his own body. He felt himself walking, but he did not knew where was he walking to. Then slowly, he felt his hands moving, taking an unknown object out of what he supposed to be a drawer. His heart was racing now – he felt as if his time was running out. He felt like a message had to be delivered. He felt himself dragging the unknown object through his own flesh, trying to write something – trying to identify something.

_“Grantaire?”_ He heard a familiar voice. A familiar and calm voice calling for him.

_“I NEED MORE TIME!”_ He heard himself yelling. “I NEED MORE TIME, DAMN IT!”

“Grantaire?” The familiar voice called for him again. “Grantaire, are you sleeping?”

He suddenly opened his eyes and gasped for breath. He felt a rush of panic flow through this veins, causing him to sit himself up quickly. He was back on his bed – why was he back on his bed? He was sure he had been standing just a few seconds ago.

“Have I woken you up?”

Grantaire slowly looked up, his eyes focusing on the confused expression plastered across the Doctor’s face. He took a deep breath and shook his head. “No...” He said, his voice slightly lower than it usually was. His throat felt dry and it was almost as if he had been screaming. “I must have... I must have fallen asleep.”

Yes. That sounded like the logical explanation for what had just happened to him – he had been dreaming.

“Oh. Do you wish to get some rest, then?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. “It’s a time-machine, y’know. We can go see Winston Churchill later.”

“No. No, I’m fine.” He smiled at her, quickly getting up from the bed and stretching his back. “I’m good. We can go see your friend now.”

The Doctor raised her eyebrows but shrugged. “All right then – would you like to get something to eat after we see him? You see, for some reason I just can’t stop thinking about custard.”

“That would be nice, yes.” He cleared his throat.

“All right then – let’s go!” She kissed him on the cheek and walked out of his room. Grantaire let a yawn escape his lips as he nervously looked around. Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention – an open drawer in the writing desk set near the bathroom door. He blinked his eyes in confusion and unconsciously touched his left arm. He flinched when he did so, and it took him a moment to realize that something was odd.

Looking down at his own arm, he noticed that there two words in there, written in a messy calligraphy that reminded him much of his own. Two words that sent shivers down his spine and caused his heart to race on his chest: _Save. Her._

“Remember...” He whispered to himself, with a frown. He knew it had something to do with the strange dream he had. He knew there was something he needed to remember and maybe – maybe someone’s life was depending on it. Too many thoughts were running through his head at the moment and none of them made sense.

He pondered over the possibility of talking to the Doctor about it – but something told him that it would not be the best idea. Keeping it to himself would be better, at least for now.

_The Doctor already has many things on her mind at the moment,_ he thought, before walking out of the room. _She shouldn’t to worry about me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Foreshadowing or simply a dream? What do you guys think? Well, I, for one, hope you have enjoyed this chapter. Next Time: Grantaire and The Doctor meet the Daleks. Grantaire is very confused by technology. The Doctor is angry. Thank you so much for reading, and see you next Friday!


	6. Chapter IV, Part One: Victory Of The Daleks or The One In Which The Doctor Looses Her Temper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire watched as another plane dropped a bomb on the top of a house, this time slightly closer from where they were located. His eyes went wide when he noticed the explosion that had been caused by it and he had to force himself to look away. He thought about the house – were there people inside of it? A family perhaps? Children? He flinched at the thought of the lifeless bodies lying on the house ruins. People were dying in this war – and for what?
> 
> “And yet another example of humanity destroying itself.” He commented, biting his bottom lip. “Doctor, this is-”
> 
> “History.” She interrupted, sending him a look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No delay on this weeks update! How proud of me are you? Just joking! So, this chapter is... well, one of my favourites. There was, originally, a lot of cute moments between the Doctor and Grantaire. But I decided to save them for chapter five, which is another original one. Okay! I would like to thank everyone who commented, viewed and left a kudos in this story. You guys are amazing and I love each and everyone of you. Thank you. Thank you very much! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: DEATH OF A VERY MINOR SIDE-CHARACTER; VIOLENCE; EXPLOSIONS; WAR; SMOKING.

Between the adventure on the Starship UK and the Doctor's next destination, Grantaire only had the time to change his clothes and take another one of those showers. Not only had he really appreciated that particular invention, he also found himself still feeling extremely icky from all the bile he had been immersed in only a few hours earlier.

The Doctor also welcomed another good shower. She had washed her hair with real shampoo this time, and dried it rather quickly with a modern hair-dryer from the 51th century. With the feeling of relaxation running through her body, she claimed to be ready to another adventure.

Grantaire shifted awkwardly in the clothes he was wearing, feeling somewhat out of place. The Doctor had convinced him to wear some more modern looking clothes and he had actually agreed with that. Now he was wearing a white shirt, some pants made of a strange material ( _Jeans_ , as the Doctor had called them), a pair of strange shoes ( _“Those are trainers. Very good for running.”_ ) and a brown jacket made of leather. His black hair was still wet from the shower, and he knew that it was going to be messy later. He thought he looked like a true idiot, but he had to admit that those clothes were extremely more comfortable than the ones he was used to wear. To complete his discomfort, he was feeling very uneasy. The memories of the strange dream he had only five minutes ago kept coming back to his mind, as much as he tried not to think about it. A sensation of fear and anticipation had taken over his mind and instincts, but he was trying to hide it as best as he could.

However, the Doctor seemed to have noticed his sudden strange behaviour. She kept glancing at him whenever he was not looking, her expression turning into a frown – but changing for a smile whenever he caught her eye. Differently from him, she seemed pretty confident about the clothes she was wearing: A knee-length red dress, a black leather jacket on top ( _“I used to wear this everyday, a long time ago, when I was on my ninth incarnation.”_ ) and a black pair of ballerina flats on her feet.

“Could you press that yellow button, please?” The Doctor asked, as she flicked some of the switches in the middle of the controls. Grantaire did as he was told, and soon, the familiar noise of the TARDIS materializing could be heard.

“Where are we going?” He asked, eyeing her with curiosity.

“Well, the future for you, I guess.” She shrugged. “We are going to meet the British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill. Somewhere around World War II.”

“World War?” Grantaire exclaimed. “The world is in war?”

“Twice in the beginning of the twentieth century. I won't give you more details, though. It's not good to know too much about the future.” She explained, giving him one more look before walking towards the TARDIS doors. “When you step out, put your hands in the air and stay close to me.” She instructed, before opening the doors and hopping outside.

Various guns were being pointed at her, just as she had expected. Laughing, she threw her hands in the air and casually glances around. As much as she hated guns, she did not made the effort to politely ask for them to be lowered or put down. It was world war II. She would have to wait.

Grantaire accidentally bumped into her when he stepped out. He looked up in alarm when he noticed they were surrounded, and put his arms in the air at the same moment he saw the guns. He gulped nervously and took a deep breath, the panic showing itself on his face.

They stood still during various seconds, until all the soldiers began to depart themselves, making way for a man to pass. This man was dressed in an expensive suit and looked nervous – maybe even tired, Grantaire noticed. He walked forwards, stopping right in front of the Doctor and raising his eyebrows.

“Grantaire,” The Doctor spoke, smiling brightly as she mentioned the man. “Meet Winston Churchill.”

“Doctor?” Churchill asked, with a frown. “Is it you?”

“Oh, Winston, my old friend!” The Doctor cheered, putting both of her arms down and giving her hand for Churchill to shake. He laughed and did so, giving her a pat on the back – and trying to subtly reach into the pockets of her leather jacket. Letting out a laugh, she stepped away from him, tilting her head to the side. “Ah, every time!”

“What is he after?” Grantaire inquired suspiciously, slowly putting his arms down.

“TARDIS key, of course.”

“At ease.” Churchill commanded, causing his soldiers to finally lower their guns. He let out a laugh, before turning to face the Doctor. “Think of what I could achieve with your remarkable machine, Doctor!” Churchill exclaimed. “The lives that could be saved!”

“Ah, doesn't work like that.” She simply replies, snapping her fingers – causing the TARDIS doors to lock themselves – and smiling cheerfully. “You rang?”

**

( . . . )

**

“So you've changed your face, again.” Churchill commented, while he led the Time Lord and her companion trough the corridors.

“Yeah, well, had a bit of work done.” She chuckled, before turning to Grantaire. “Right. Some background story for you. We are in the Cabinet War Rooms. Top secret, heart of the War Office, right under London.”

“You're late, by the way.” Churchill commented, simply raising an eyebrow as they entered the cabinet.

“Late?” The Doctor asked, slightly confused.

“I rang you a month ago.” Churchill answered, signing the clipboard.

“That's actually very early for her standards.” Grantaire commented, speaking for the first time since they got there. “She made me wait for almost twelve years.”

The Doctor shot him an annoyed look, before turning to Churchill. “Sorry, it's a Type 40 TARDIS. I'm just running her in.”

“Excuse me, sir.” An Officer said, rushing into the room. “Got another formation coming in, Prime Minister. Stukas, by the look of them.”

“We shall go up top then, Group Captain! We'll give 'em what for!” Churchill cheered, before sending a look to the Doctor. “Coming, Doctor?”

“Why?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I have something to show you.” He stated.

**

( . . . )

**

Winston Churchill pressed the button to start the lift and took a drag of his cigar. The Doctor grimaced, waving the smoke away. Grantaire, who was standing in the back, looking at everything with amazement, cleared his throat.

“Doctor...” He trailed of, crossing his arms. “What is this?”

“Oh! Right.” She exclaimed, turning to him. “This is called lift or an elevator. You basically stand inside it, and it will take you to whichever floor you would like to be. It can go up and down... And it's sort of a replacement for stairs. It really comes in handy in case of a building with twenty floors or so.”

Churchill looked at Grantaire with curiosity, and then at the Doctor. “And who is your companion, Doctor?”

“Thomas Grantaire. He is from 1829 France, so there's a lot he hasn't seen yet. However, I wouldn't like for him to get too much information about the future. It's dangerous. So leave the historical explanations for me.”

Grantaire scoffed, rolling his eyes before turning to Winston Churchill. “Uh, why did you... hum.. phoned... the Doctor for?”

“Because, boy. We stand at a crossroads.” Churchill started, his face becoming serious. “Quite alone, with our backs to the wall. Invasion is expected daily. So I will grasp with both hands anything that will give us an advantage over the Nazi menace.”

Grantaire did not knew much about the future, but he supposed that ‘Nazi Menace’ was the name of the enemy being confronted on this second great war. Something inside of him caused a smile to appear on his face – oh, he couldn’t wait to tell Enjolras about this.

The great leader had always preached about how humanity would prosper and reach greatness – and how the twentieth century would be magnificent, leaving behind the roots of evil and walking towards freedom to each and every citizen. But this twentieth century he was seeing at the moment did not resembled Enjolras’ ideals in any way. There could not be freedom in the middle of a war. Enjolras had been wrong about this, just as he was wrong about many other things.

_Oh_ , Grantaire thought, holding back a laugh. _I wish he could be here. Just so I could see the look on his marble face upon realizing just how naïve and optimistic he had been._

“ _Anything that gives you advantage..._ ” The Doctor repeated, a frown appearing on her face. “Such as?”

The lift suddenly stopped. Grantaire pressed his back against one of the metal walls, startled by the rough movement, but soon regained his composure. He glanced around for a few moments, trying to understand just how that lift thing exactly worked.

Churchill opened the gates of the lift, taking another long drag of his cigar. “Follow me.” He instructed, a serious expression on his face.

The group stepped outside the lift and Grantaire sighed in relief. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill his lungs. Being trapped in such a small space for several minutes with someone smoking certainly was not an experience he had enjoyed. The Doctor held his hand and smiled as they began to make their way up to the roof, following Churchill.

The Prime Minister stop walking, standing next to a middle-aged man in a white coat. They shared a look and a greeting, and the man resumed to his previous task, watching the sky with a weird-looking object. Grantaire frowned and looked at the Doctor with a raised eyebrow.

“Binoculars.” She explained, with a chuckle. “They are actually from your time. Invented in 1825, but it only became popular years after that. It's basically consists of two telescopes, one for each eye, mounted on a single frame. You use it to have a better view of distant objects.”

“Seems to be quite handy.” He commented, nodding his head.

They were now standing a few steps behind Winston Churchill and the man wearing a white coat. The Prime Minister cleared his throat, before speaking. “Doctor, this is Professor Edwin Bracewell, head of our Iron-sides Project.”

“Hello!” The Doctor smiled, holding up her right hand in the air and making a _“V for Victory”_ sign with her fingers. Grantaire shot her an amused look, before waving his own hand. Professor Bracewell laughed at her odd behaviour and greeted her with the same cheerfulness, before turning on his heels and once again and looking through his binoculars, whispering something of importance to Winston Churchill.

The Doctor twirled around, not caring to listen to their conversation. Climbing in one of the edges of the building, she crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, observing the view with an expression of curiosity – there was a different look on her eyes this time. Almost as if she had too much going on in her mind to even care about the war.

Grantaire was quickly standing next to her. He was looking at the Doctor, his eyes filled with admiration and concern. His hands were tucked inside the pockets of his jacket, and every now and then he would let a yawn escape from his lips. A few moments went by. Something in the sky seemed to catch his attention, and he briefly glanced at it.

“What are those things in the sky?” He casually asked.

“Air planes or just planes.” She explained, crossing her arms. “They are just like spaceships, only smaller. They are basically used to transport people from one place to another in a short amount of time. However, they are also used to transport objects or...” She bit her lip, making a pause as one of the planes dropped a bomb right in the middle of London. “Uh... they are also used for wars.”

Grantaire watched as another plane dropped a bomb on the top of a house, this time slightly closer from where they were located. His eyes went wide when he noticed the explosion that had been caused by it and he had to force himself to look away. He thought about the house – were there people inside of it? A family perhaps? Children? He flinched at the thought of the lifeless bodies lying on the house ruins. People were dying in this war – and for what?

“And yet another example of humanity destroying itself.” He commented, biting his bottom lip. “Doctor, this is-”

“ _History._ ” She interrupted, sending him a look.

“I was going to say terrible, actually.” He corrected her, with a sigh. “Can't we do anything to help? Surely, there must be a way to put an end to it. Or to stop it from happening?”

“Well, no. It's not a fixed point in time, but it is a part of history. No your history. At least not for a hundred years more... But still.”

“No. The war itself is a fixed point in time.” She shrugged. “Time can be re-written, Grantaire. But not fixed points. Even if we change every single detail of the history of human race, the two great wars would still happen.”

Grantaire felt like he was going to throw up – the scene of air planes and explosions in front of him truly made him sick. With a shake of his head, he sighed. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a distant call, coming from Winston Churchill.

“Ready, Bracewell?” The Prime Minister called.

“Aye-aye, sir.” Bracewell nodded. “On my order! Fire!”

It was only a matter of seconds until the sky was suddenly filled with laser beams. He could hear a somewhat computerized voice coming from somewhere, but he could not understand what they were shouting. He glanced at the Doctor. She stood frozen on her place. Her expression was a mix of many emotions – surprise, concern, terror and anger. Whatever those laser beams were coming from, they did not seemed to be good news.

“What was that?” Grantaire asked, raising his eyebrows.

“That wasn't human, that was never human technology. That sounded like...” She made a pause, swallowing hard before turning around and rushing to Bracewell. _“Show me!”_ She commanded. “Show me what that was!”

“Advance!” Bracewell ordered, with a nod of his head.

An odd-looking creature slowly slid into their direction, causing the Doctor to take several steps backs. Grantaire walked towards her, taking a hold of her hand. She looked at him for a second, and then back at the creature. The young art student did the same. He blinked his eyes, feeling disoriented. He had seen a creature like that one before, but he couldn’t remember where or when.

_“YOU NEED TO REMEMBER!”_ He jumped at the sound of his own voice, once again screaming inside his head. He squeezed the Doctor’s hand, trying to focus on the creature. He knew what those things were. He had seen one of them before. Back at the...

Dalek, he thought, biting his bottom lip. That’s a Dalek. But they do look quite silly.

“Our new secret weapon!” Churchill cheered. “What do you think? Quite something, eh?”

“What are you doing here?'” The Doctor asked, letting go of Grantaire’s hand and slowly approaching the Dalek.

“I AM YOUR SOLDIER.” It replied. It sounded like the same computerized voice that Grantaire heard before.

“What?”

“I AM YOUR SOLDIER.”

“Stop this.” The Doctor commanded, her expression growing darker and darker as the seconds flew by. “Stop now! You know who I am, you always know.”

“YOUR IDENTITY IS UNKNOWN.”

“Perhaps I can clarify things here.” Bracewell said with a smile, in a casual tone of voice. “This is one of my Iron-sides.”

“Your what?”

“You will help the Allied cause in any way that you can?” Bracewell asked, turning to the Dalek.

“YES.”

“Until the Germans have been utterly smashed?”

“YES.”

“And what is your ultimate aim?”

“TO WIN THE WAR.”

**

( . . . )

**

They were now back on the inside of Cabinet Wars Room and the air was filled with tension. Winston Churchill was smoking yet another cigarette, patting Professor Bracewell on the back and speaking with him in a quiet tone of voice. The other workers in there were either controlling strange machines or passing around some files to each other. Grantaire stood leaning against a wall, his attention focused on the Doctor. He watched with concern as she groaned, analysing some diagrams and blueprints containing the exact anatomy of the amour of a Dalek. Her hands were shaking, but whether it was from rage or fear, Grantaire did not know.

To be fair, there were many things about the current situation that Grantaire did not knew. For example, he did not knew what a Dalek was. He did not knew why that odd looking creature made him slightly nervous. He did not knew just what in seven hells he should be remembering at the moment. He was sure that his level of stress was pretty high by now and he knew it would be wise for him to take a deep breath and calm down. But everything was just turning out to be very confusing. Dealing with technological advances had not been a hard task on their last adventure, but at the moment, he could not understand why people were speaking on those radios or why there were people staring at a small green monitor with red blinking dots.

He closed his eyes and sighed. Nothing was making much sense and, at this point, he just wanted to run to the nearest bar and indulge himself with some fine wine. However, it was not a very safe idea and he was sure that the Doctor would have a nervous breakdown if he decided to sneak outside in the middle of a war to go get a drink.

“They're Daleks! They're called Daleks!” The Doctor suddenly said, rubbing her eyes.

“They are Bracewell's Iron-sides, Doctor!” Churchill insisted, with frustration. “Look! Blueprints, statistics, field-tests, photographs. He invented them!”

“Invented them?” The Doctor scoffed, shaking her head.

“Yes! He approached one of our brass hats a few months ago. Fella's a genius.”

“He didn't invent them!” She hissed. “They're alien.”

“Alien?”

A Dalek slides by the open doorway in silence. The Doctor, sensing its presence, looks over her shoulder and frowns. The Dalek observes the action in the room before continuing on whatever it was doing.

“And totally hostile!” She added.

“Precisely. They will win me the war!” The Prime Minister exclaimed, turning over one of the blueprints to show a propaganda poster, with a large Dalek in it. He shot a look to the Doctor before starting to walk away.

“Why won't you listen?” The Doctor asked, quickly following him. “Why call me in if you won't listen to me?!”

“When I rang you a month ago, I must admit, I had my doubts... The Iron-sides seemed too good to be true.”

“Yes! Right!” She cheered. “So destroy them! _Exterminate them_! No, not exterminate them. It was a bad word-choice.”

“But imagine what I could do with a hundred! A thousand!”

“I am imagining.” The Doctor sighed, looking around as one Dalek slid past her. “Grantaire, tell him.”

The young man snapped his eyes open, stumbling on his own feet for a moment. When he regained his composure, he cleared his throat, looking up at her with confusion. “Tell him what?”

“About the Daleks!” She repeated.

“What would I know about the Daleks?” He asks, with a frown. _Probably more than you think you do_ , he reasoned with himself, _but nothing that comes to mind at the moment._

“Everything. They invaded your world, remember? Planets in the sky, you don't forget something like that!” The Doctor made a pause, tilting her head to the side. “Grantaire... Tell me you remember the Daleks.”

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

Churchill rolled his eyes in annoyance and began to leave the room. The Doctor and Grantaire shared a look, before following him. The young man remained silent, watching as the Time Lord stared angrily at some of the passing Daleks. Her action made him raise his eyebrows – that was the exact same look Enjolras had whenever he walked near criminals or politicians.

“That's not possible.” She muttered, as they walked into another room. She bit her lip, turning to look at Grantaire once more. “So they're up to something, but what is it? What are they after?”

“Why don't we just ask?” Grantaire sighed, feeling slightly annoyed. All this Dalek talk was beginning to give him a headache. Without waiting for a response and acting purely on instinct, he walked over to one of the Daleks, tapping into his case.

The Dalek did not moved itself. It merely turned it's eye-stalk to focus on him, seeming to analyse the boy for a second, before asking. “CAN I BE OF ASSISTANCE?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes! See, my friend reckons you're dangerous... That you're an alien. Is it true?” He inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“I AM YOUR SOLDIER.”

“Yeah. Got that bit.” Grantaire nodded, rolling his eyes. “What else, though? What is it that you hide behind all this armour you wear?”

“PLEASE EXCUSE ME. I HAVE DUTIES TO PERFORM.” It replied, before turning it's eye-stalk back into place and rolling away.

The Doctor scoffed at the interaction and shook her head. She walked over to Winston Churchill, taking the cigarette he was smoking away from his mouth and throwing it over her shoulders. Placing her hands on her hips, she tilted her head to the side. “Winston, Winston.” She mused. “Please, listen to me.”

“We are waging total war, Doctor!” Churchill sighed. “Day after day, the Luftwaffe pound this great city like an iron fist.”

“You think those German Planes are bad?” She inquired, a look of disbelief plastered across her face. “Well, wait until the Daleks get started. Because I’m telling you, it will be way worse than a war.” She warned.

“Men, women and children slaughtered. Families torn apart. Wren's churches in flames.”

“How lovely! _Try the Earth in flames!_ ” She spat, trying to push back the anger that was forming within herself. “You don’t understand the risk.”

“Yes, I do. I weep for my country, I weep for my empire. It is breaking my heart.” Churchill says, moving around the table.

“But you're resisting, Winston!” The Doctor continued, following him around. “The whole world knows you're resisting! You're a beacon of hope.”

“But for how long?” He asks, signing some papers that were handed to him by one of the other workers. “Millions of innocent lives will be saved if I use these Iron-sides now!”

“CAN I BE OF ASSISTANCE?” A Dalek asked, coming up to the Doctor.

“Shut up!' She exclaimed, glaring at it with rage before turning back to Churchill. “Listen to me. Just listen! The Daleks have no conscience, no mercy, no pity. They are my oldest and deadliest enemy. You cannot trust them!”

“If Hitler invaded hell, I would give a favourable reference to the Devil! These machines are our salvation!” He answered, as a siren rang through the place. “Oh, the all-clear. We are safe. For now...” He trailed of, quickly making his way out of the room.

The Doctor sighs and stares at the Dalek. It stared back at her for a moment too, before turning away and leaving.

“Doctor...” Grantaire said, approaching her. “Are you okay?”

The Doctor leaned against a wall. “What does hate looks like, Grantaire?”

“Hate?” He inquired, blinking his eyes. “Hate looks like the darkest depths of one’s soul. Hate looks like the burning fires of a heart that was broken too many times.”

“No. It looks like a Dalek.” She said, crossing her arms. “And I'm going to prove it.”

**

( . . . )

**

“All right, Prof!” The Doctor exclaims, clasping her hands together as she walks into yet another room, being followed close by Grantaire. “The PM's been filling me in. Amazing things, these Iron-sides of yours. Amazing. You must be very proud of them.”

“Just doing my bit.” Bracewell shrugged, taking a sip from his cup of tea.

“WOULD YOU CARE FOR SOME TEA?” A Dalek asked, approaching Grantaire.

“Don't suppose you have something stronger than tea?” The young man replied, with a sigh, before picking up a cup of tea from the tray the Dalek was somewhat carrying. “Thank you very much!”

The Dalek analysed him for a moment before sliding away. Grantaire took a sip of the tea, only now realizing just how hungry he actually was. He didn't knew how long this trip in particular was going to take or even if they were going to survive in this war – he didn’t had the fear of death, but knowing that a bomb could be dropped where they were in any given moment made him very nervous – but he decided that their next trip would be towards the kitchen.

The Doctor eyed Grantaire with concern for a moment before throwing herself into one of the chairs. She picked up one of the files and started to read thought it, quickly flipping through the pages. “How did you do it?” She inquired, looking up at Bracewell. “Come up with the idea?”

“How does the muse of invention come to anyone?”

The Doctor crossed her legs, throwing the file back on the desk. “But you get a lot of these clever notions, don’t you?”

“Well, ideas just seem to teem from my head! Wonderful things! Like... let me show you.” Bracewell mused, picking up one of the files and handing it to the Doctor. “Some musings on the potential of hypersonic flight. Gravity bubbles that could sustain life outside of the terrestrial atmosphere! Came to me in the bath!”

“And are these your ideas or theirs?”

“No, no, no, no. These robots are entirely under my control, Doctor. They are...” He made a pause, as a Dalek brought him some tea. “Thank you...the perfect servant, and the perfect warrior.”

“I don't know what you're up to, Professor, but whatever they've promised, you cannot trust them!” The Doctor warned, a serious expression on her face. “Call them what you like, the Daleks are death!”

“Yes, Doctor. Death to our enemies!” Churchill said, as he walked inside the room, being followed by a Dalek. “Death to the forces of darkness, and death to the Third Reich!”

“Yes, Winston, and death to everyone else too!”

“WOULD YOU CARE FOR SOME TEA?” A Dalek asked, turning to the Doctor.

“STOP THIS!” She screamed, taking the tray away from the Dalek and tossing it into the floor. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“WE ONLY SEEK TO HELP YOU.” It replied.

“To do what?”

“TO WIN THE WAR!”

“Really?” The Doctor scoffed. “Which war?”

“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND.”

“This war, against the Nazis? Or your war?” She snapped. “The war against the rest of the Universe? The war against all life-forms that are not Dalek?”

“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. I AM YOUR SOLDIER.”

“Oh, yeah? OK.”

“Doctor?” Grantaire asked, slightly concerned.

The Doctor didn't replied. Instead, she turned around and picked up one of the spanners that were spread through the tables. In a fit of rage, she began to bang it non-stop against the Dalek. “OK, SOLDIER. DEFEND YOURSELF.” She screamed.

“Doctor, what the devil...?!”

“YOU DO NOT REQUIRE TEA?” The Dalek asked, as the Doctor kept on hitting it.

“Stop it!” Bracewell cried. “Prime Minister, please!”

“Doctor, please, these machines are precious.” Churchill tried to interfere.

“COME ON! FIGHT BACK!” She yelled, as she stopped on hitting it with the spanner. “You want to, don't you? I know you do.”

“I must protest!” Bracewell cried once more.

“What are you waiting for? You hate me. You want to kill me. Well, go on!” She laughed, shaking her head. “Kill me. KILL ME!” She demanded, striking it with the spanner once again.

“Doctor, honestly.” Grantaire said, trying to approach her.

“PLEASE DESIST FROM STRIKING ME. I AM YOUR SOLDIER.”

“You are my enemy!” She hissed, hitting the Dalek again. “And I am yours! You are everything I despise! The worst thing in all creation. I've defeated you time and time again, I've defeated you. I sent you back into the void! I saved the whole of reality from you! I am the Doctor! And you are the Daleks!”

The Doctor dropped the spanner on the floor, feeling unable to contain her rage for any longer. The Dalek eyed her for a moment, before it moved a few steps back. “CORRECT. REVIEW TESTIMONY.”

“Testimony?” Grantaire inquired, raising his eyebrows. “What are you talking about, testimony?”

“TRANSMITING TESTIMONY NOW.” Another Dalek said.

“Transmit what, where?”

“TESTIMONY ACCEPTED.”

“Get back! GET BACK!” The Doctor warned, placing herself in front of Grantaire. “All of you!”

“Marines! Marines!” Churchill yelled. “Get in here!”

Two soldiers entered the room at the same moment. One of the Daleks looked at it and simply shot him with a laser beam. The man shrieked and fell down to the ground immediately. He was dead.

“Stop it! Stop it, please!” Bracewell cried. “What are you doing? You are my Iron-sides!”

“WE ARE THE DALEKS!”

“But I created you!”

“NO.” It answered, shooting a laser to one of Bracewell's hand. The man screamed in shock, holding up his arm only to reveal a stump – but instead of blood and flesh, there were wires and circuits. “WE CREATED YOU!”

“VICTORY! VICTORY! VICTORY!” The other Daleks in the room began to chant together. A bright light filled the room, and before anyone could even understand what was happening, they had teleported themselves away.

There was a big pause in the room. Everyone stood silently, exchanging looks and sighs of relief. Grantaire was the first one to speak. He placed a hand on the Doctor's shoulders, looking at her with a mix of confusion and concern. “What just happened, Doctor?”

“I wanted to know what they wanted. What their plan was...” She trailed of, looking at Grantaire. Her eyes wide with fear and once again anger. “I was their plan!” She concluded, before running off the room.

**

( . . . )

**

"Testimony accepted!" That's what they said!” The Doctor explained quickly, as she stopped running. She was now standing right in front of the TARDIS. Taking a key out of her pockets, she began to unlock the doors. “My testimony.”

“You were right.” Grantaire says, as he stopped running. He took a deep breath, scratching the back of his head. “What do we do? Chase after them?”

“This is what I do. It's dangerous, so wait here.”

The Prime Minister finally arrives, making a pause to catch his breath. He took a few steps towards the other two, his hands unconsciously reaching for his pockets in the search of a cigarette.

“What?” Grantaire scoffed. “So you mean I've got to stay safe down here in the middle of World War II?”

“This is as safe as it gets around me.” The Doctor simply answers. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his forehead, whispering an _‘I’ll be back soon.’_ before turning around and rushing inside the TARDIS – the doors closing right behind her.

Grantaire groaned in frustration as he watched the TARDIS dematerialize from the room. Cursing under his breath in the only two languages he knew, he turned around to face Winston Churchill. “What does she expect us to do now?”

“KBO, of course.” The other replied, with a shrug.

“What?”

“Keep buggering on!”

**

(. . . )

**

The Doctor rushed to the controls of the TARDIS, pressing a few buttons here and there and pulling levers up, trying to work as fast as she could. Her both hearts racing on her chest as she spun around the console, pulling the monitor down. Pressing another button, the monitor turned themselves on, now revealing the form of a Dalek spaceship floating right above the planet earth.

“Bingo!” The Time Lord smirked.

**

( . . . )

**

“Prime Minister.” One of the workers exclaimed, trying to get Winston Churchill’s attention.

“Yes?” Churchill answered, putting a cigarette on his mouth.

The worker hesitated for a moment, before handing him a paper. “Signal from RDF, sir. Unidentified object. Hanging in the sky, Captain Childers says. We can't get a proper fix, though. It's too far up.”

“So, there's a spaceship in the sky?” Grantaire guessed, frowning when Churchill nodded. “But is it the

TARDIS or is it some... Dalek... spaceship?” He made a pause, groaning. “Dalek spaceship then. Of course. Just our luck.”

“What do you think, Mister Grantaire?” Churchill asked, with a laugh. “The Doctor's in trouble and now we know where she is.”

“She'll be on that ship, won't she?” Grantaire asked, biting his lower lip in concern. “Right in the middle of everything.”

“Exactly!”

The art student sighed in frustration and turned around. The Doctor was in danger. The Doctor was in danger and there was nothing he could do to help. Knowing this fact – knowing this simple and small fact – made Grantaire feel both useless and terrified. Especially when memories from his strange dream from earlier came into his mind once again. He reached to touch his left arm and he could almost feel the sensation of a pen being dragged across his skin, forming two words:

_Save. Her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this was the chapter. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoy writing this. Please, leave a comment or a kudos and feel free to tell me what you think! Feedback is very much appreciated.
> 
> Next Week: The Doctor fights the Daleks. Grantaire just wants to get some rest. Important conversation.  
> And just in case anyone is curious: The introduction of the rest of the Amis will happen on chapter VIII.


	7. Chapter IV, Part Two – Victory Of The Daleks or The One In Which Is Actually A Jammy Dodger.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two feelings that balanced themselves perfectly. And what emotion, exactly, was a mix of both?
> 
> Blinking his eyes in realization, Grantaire quickly approached Bracewell, kneeling by his side. "Hey... Did you ever fancied someone you know you shouldn't? Hurts, doesn't it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very big delay on the chapter this time! I know. I'm sorry. Completely my fault. I got distracted with some school work over the past few weeks and I lost the track of time. But here I am today ! Oh man, have I mentioned how much I love this episode? And how much I love the whole Grantaire/The Doctor friendship? Because oh, I do. Anyway, I would like to thank everyone for reading this and leaving comments and kudos! Thank you so much! And now, without any more delay, to the chapter. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The TARDIS whirring sound echoed through the rooms as it materialized on the inside of the spaceship. The Daleks turned themselves to look at it with cautious alarm, preparing themselves to shoot her in sight. The doors of the blue box snapped open, a bright light coming out of it. The Doctor soon hopped outside, a smug smile plastered across her face.

"Hello!" She exclaimed, rubbing her hands together as she took a step towards them "How about that cup of tea now, then?"

" _IT IS THE DOCTOR!_ " One of the Daleks cried. " _EXTERMINATE!_ "

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you!" A chuckle escaped her lips. Taking a quick look at her surroundings, the Doctor pushed a strand of hair out of her view and reached into the pockets of her leather jacket. Pulling out a small and round object from it, she bit her lip for a second in hesitation, before holding it in front of her. "TARDIS self-destruct. And you know what that means. My ship goes, you all go with it." She threatened.

_"YOU WOULD NOT USE SUCH A DEVICE."_

She really wouldn't, if we are going to be honest. The object was not a self-destruct device. It was, in fact, a _Jammie Dodger_. But the Doctor needed to buy herself some time until she had something planned – and the best way to buy time is fooling your enemies by twisting the true and making use of something they had no knowledge about.

"Try me."She defied, raising an eyebrow. There was a single moment of hesitation in the ship, until one of the Daleks tried to move towards her. Turning her hand, she pointed the Jammie Dodger at it. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. No scans! No nothing!" She instructed. "One move and I'll destroy us all, you got that? TARDIS goes _BANG-BANG_ , Daleks goes _BOOM._ " Another moment of hesitation. The Dalek moved back to it's original position, causing the Doctor to grin. "Good boy." She complimented, before looking up at the various monitors and panels of the spaceship. "Wow, this ship's pretty beaten up – running on empty, I'd say, like you. When we last met, you were at the end of your rope. _Finished_."

 _"_ _ONE SHIP SURVIVED_."

 _"_ And you fell back through time, yes? Crippled? Dying?"

_"WE PICKED UP A TRACE. ONE OF THE PROGENITOR DEVICES."_

_"_ Progenitor?"

_"_ _IT IS OUR PAST. AND OUR FUTURE._ _IT CONTAINS PURE DALEK DNA. THOUSANDS WERE CREATED, ALL WERE LOST... SAVE ONE."_

_"_ OK. Very well! But there's still one thing I don't get, though." She mused, tilting her head to the side and twirling around the room. "If you've got the Progenitor thing, why build Bracewell?"

" _IT WAS... NECESSARY."_

 _"_ But why?" The Doctor asked, before looking at them. Something seemed the click on her mind and she raised her eyebrows with interest, letting out a laugh. "Oh, I get it! I get it. This is rich! The Progenitor wouldn't recognize you, would it? It saw you as impure. The DNA is unrecognisable as Dalek."

 _"_ A SOLUTION WAS DEVISED."

 _"_ Yes. Me. My testimony. So you set a trap, you knew that the Progenitor would recognize me. The Daleks' greatest enemy! It would accept my word. My recognition of you." She concluded, with a shake of her head.

One of the Daleks eyed her carefully, before sliding back and turning to face one of the panels. _"_ _WITHDRAW NOW, DOCTOR. OR THE CITY DIES IN FLAMES."_

"Oh, come on, now! Who are you kidding?" She scoffed. "This ship is a wreck, you don't have the power to destroy London."

_"_ _WATCH AS THE HUMANS DESTROY THEMSELVES."_

The Dalek next to the panel activated one of the controls, causing the spaceship to lower itself down slightly. The monitors lit themselves up, showing an in-time footage of the outside of the ship – where a wide disc-looking device exited through one of the entrances and placed itself right above one of the turbines of the ship. As soon as it had been correctly placed, the image on the monitor changed.

Now it was showing a green screen with many graphics and codes plastered across it. The image of the disc had now been reproduced in some type of radar the Doctor did not recognized and it suddenly began to transmit a wave of energy towards London. In one of the many monitors, the in-time footage was still playing, showing how it caused all the lights to turn themselves on, all over the town of London.

Which meant danger. It was, indeed, the middle of World War II and German planes were attacking during the whole night long, almost every day. Having the lights on in every corner of the city would make the job of blowing up London much easier.

Back at the Cabinet War Rooms, people were static. Workers were running around in alarm trying to contact other military bases and energy industries, search patrols were already being sent outside to guarantee the safety of the population and the radio was already being used to warn the people, advising them to look for underground shelter.

One of the soldiers tried to switch off the lights of the room, obtaining no success at all. _"_ The generators won't switch off!" He cried in desperation. "The lights are on all across London, Prime Minister!"

 _"_ It has to be them." Grantaire hissed, clenching his fists. The loathing in his voice was clear and he had to stop himself from punching a wall. He felt different. He felt... anger. He was angry, but he did not knew why. "It has to be the Daleks."

 _"_ The Germans can see every inch of the city. We're sitting ducks. Get those lights out before the Germans get here!" Winston Churchill commanded, as the other soldiers went off to work on different areas. _"_ Thousands will die if we don't get those lights out now."

 _"_ German bombers sighted over the Channel, sir." One of the workers informed "ETA 10 minutes, sir."

 _"_ Here they come. Get a message to Mr Attlee. War Cabinet meeting at 0300 – if we're all still here." Churchill sighed, sitting down in a chair and massaging his temple with the tip of his fingers.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing!" Grantaire exclaimed, in an outburst of anger. He crossed his arms, taking a deep breath to calm himself down, before once again speaking. "We've got to take the fight to the Daleks!"

 _"_ How?" The Prime Minister asked, throwing his hands up in the air. "None of our weapons are a match for theirs."

"We must have something..." Grantaire trailed of, his eyes widening with realization. "Staring us in the face! A gift from the Daleks!"

* * *

_"_ Turn those lights off now." The Doctor hissed, taking a confident step towards the Daleks."Turn London off or I swear I will use the TARDIS self-destruct!"

_"_ _STALEMATE, DOCTOR. LEAVE US, AND RETURN TO EARTH."_

_"_ Oh, that's it? That's your great victory? You leave?"

_"_ _EXTINCTION IS NOT AN OPTION! WE SHALL RETURN TO OUR OWN TIME AND BEGIN AGAIN!"_

_"_ NO!" She yelled – which caused a few of the Daleks to back away. She felt the same rage from before building up inside of her, as she remembered everything she had to go through because of the Daleks. Every life she lost. Every thing she sacrificed. "I won't let you get away this time! _I won't!_ "

Before the Doctor could do or say anything else, one of the machines spread across the ship began to emit a loud sound. She turned around, looking at it with curiosity and confusion. The Daleks began to move. Some of them slid towards the inside of the machine – that probably was the progenitor device they had mentioned a little bit earlier.

" _WE HAVE SUCCEEDED. DNA RECONSTRUCTION IS COMPLETE!_ " Cried one of the Daleks. " _OBSERVE, DOCTOR. A NEW DALEK PARADIGM_."

The doors of the progenitor device opened and the machine began to let out some sparks. Smoke was coming from inside of it, and for one shining moment, the Doctor thought that maybe something went wrong. Maybe the Daleks had not succeeded, after all.

That feeling of hope did not lasted for too long. Something merged from the smoke and slowly came out of the machine: _Daleks._ Brand new and larger Daleks, each a different colour. White, blue, yellow, red...

_"THE PROGENITOR HAS FULLFILLED OUR NEW DESTINY. BEHOLD, THE RESTORATION OF THE DALEKS! THE RESSUCRECTION OF THE MASTER RACE!"_

* * *

Grantaire had probably never ran this fast before. Or maybe he just could not remember. That was not really his main concert at the moment, seeing as it would only be a matter of minutes until the Germans began to drop bombs all over London. He had an idea. Not a very good idea and there was a slight chance that it would not work, but an idea nonetheless.

He rushed inside of Professor Bracewell's office, making a quick pause to catch his breath. The Prime Minister arrived a few seconds after, clutching his chest and muttering something about his age and cigarettes – Grantaire had not paid attention, his eyes focused somewhere else.

"What are you doing?" He inquired, raising his eyebrows as he stared at Professor Bracewell.

The man stood in one of the corners of the room, holding a revolver in his remaining hand and pressing it against his own head. He was about to shoot himself. He looked up from the ground, staring at Churchill and Grantaire, his eyes filled with tears. "My life is a lie," he muttered "and I choose to end it."

 _"_ In your own time, my friend." Grantaire said, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder and offering a kind smile. Although he had not shown it, the calm present in his words had surprised him greatly. He was never one to speak soft, specially when it came to situations like this one. But he remembered enough conversations he had shared with Combeferre to know how to deal with this. "Because right now, we need your help."

 _W_ _hat would Combeferre do in a situation like this? What would he say?_ He asked himself for a moment. _Probably something along these lines, right?_

 _"_ But those creatures...my Iron-sides…they made me?" Bracewell shrieked, his whole body shaking. "I... I can remember things, so many things. The last war – The squalor and the mud and the awful, awful misery of it all. What am I? What am I?"

 _"_ What you are, sir, is either on our side or theirs. Now, I don't give a damn if you're a machine, Bracewell..." Churchill said, pointing his unlit cigar at him. "Are you a man?"

 _"_ I understand what you are feeling. Really, I do." Grantaire started, gently taking the gun away from Bracewell's hand. _Yes, Combeferre would definitely do something like this._ "But we need your help. Really. There is a spaceship up there and it's... lighting up London. Thousands of people will die tonight if we don't stop it. And you're the only one who can help us to take it down."

 _"_ I am?"

 _"_ You're alien technology, aren't you? You're as clever as the Daleks are, so start thinking, my friend!" He exclaimed, before turning to Winston Churchill and clearing his throat. He bit his lip, trying to remember a bit of what the Doctor had explained from human technology. "What about... rockets? You got rockets? You said gravity whatsits, hypersonic flight, some non-sense rubbish of the kind."

 _"_ This isn't a fireworks party, Mister!" Churchill hissed. "We need proper tactical... A missile... or...?We could send something up there, you say?"

 _"_ With a gravity bubble, yes." Bracewell quietly replied, turning around and pointing some of the files. "Theoretically it's possible we could actually send something into space."

 _"_ Bracewell... It's time to think big!"

* * *

" _ALL HAIL THE NEW DALEKS. ALL HAIL THE NEW DALEKS."_ The three remaining Daleks began to chant.

The white Dalek analysed them for a moment in silence, before moving forward. " _YOU ARE INFERIOR. PREPARE_."

 _"WE ARE READY."_ The three Daleks chanted again.

"CLEAN THE UNCLEAN! TOTAL OBLITERATION! DISINTEGRATE!"

The blue and red Daleks moved forward as well and fired their laser beam upon the three Daleks, causing them to disintegrate in thin air. Then slowly, they turned to stare at the Doctor.

"YOU ARE THE DOCTOR!" The white Dalek spoke again. "YOU MUST BE EXTERMINATED!"

"Don't mess with me, sweetheart!" The Doctor replied, pulling out the Jammie Dodger once more and pointing it at them.

* * *

_"_ Advancing bombers approaching in strike formation." Said a soldier. "Incendiary bombs have hit the East End of London."

Bracewell rushed inside the room. His ripped-off arm was now resting on a sling and a new built device was being held by his remaining one. Grantaire followed him, carrying a bigger device on his hands as well.

 _"_ At last!" Churchill cheered. "Are they ready?"

 _"_ I hope so. But in the meantime..." He trailed of, placing the device on the seat of a chair, and turning around to the one Grantaire was holding. "This will pick up Dalek transmissions. Put it in the desk."

Grantaire did as he was told, and took a few steps back. He watched with a frown as Bracewell pressed a button on that device and stepped away. The white screen of the device was soon replaced with the image of the Doctor and a white Dalek.

 _"_ It's her!" Grantaire cried, relieved to see that his friend was all right. "It's the Doctor!"

 _"_ _WE ARE THE PARADIGM OF A NEW DALEK RACE. SCIENTIST, STRATEGIST, DRONE, ETERNAL AND SUPREME."_ The Dalek exclaimed.

 _"Which would be you, I'm guessing?"_ The Doctor scoffed, rolling her eyes. _"_ _Well, you know, nice paint job. I'd be feeling pretty swish if I looked like you. Pretty Supre-eme."_

"She's got company." Grantaire pointed out. "We've got to hurry up!"

"Ready when you are, Prime Minister."

"Splendid!"

 _"_ Spaceship's exact co-ordinates located!" Bracewell announced.

 _"_ Go to it, Group Captain! Go to it!"

_"Broadsword to Danny Boy! Broadsword to Danny Boy! Scramble! Scramble! Scramble!"_

* * *

"Question is, what do we do now?" The Doctor asked. "Either you turn off your clever machine or I'll blow you and your new paradigm into eternity."

" _AND YOURSELF_."

 _"_ Occupational hazard." She shrugged.

_"_ _SCAN REVEALS NOTHING! TARDIS SELF-DESTRUCT DEVICE NON-EXISTENT."_

_"_ Well, so much for a distraction." The Doctor sighed, taking a bite of the Jammie Dodger. "It's a Jammie Dodger, but I was promised tea!"

A loud alarm run through the spaceship. The blue Dalek moved to the scanners, taking a few moments to analyse it. Tension filled the room in the few moments of silence that followed, until the blue Dalek spoke: _"ALERT! UNIDENTIFIED PROJECTILE APPROACHING!"_ It made a pause. The Doctor stood on her tip-toes, trying to look at a second scanner. _"CORRECTION. MULTIPLE PROJECTILES!'"_

" _WHAT HAVE THE HUMANS DONE?_ " Asked the red Dalek.

 _"_ I don't know." The Doctor frowned, tilting her head to the side. "I just hope Grantaire is safe." She muttered to herself, biting her lower lip.

"EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!" The Daleks began to chant together.

The spaceship's radio began to emit static – almost as if someone was trying to stablish contact. The Doctor took a few steps forward, raising her eyebrows in confusion and fear.

 _"_ _Danny Boy to the Doctor! Danny Boy to the Doctor!_ " Several seconds after, a voice finally came from the radio. " _Are you receiving me? Over._ "

"Oh, Winston, you beauty!" The Doctor cheered, letting out a laugh. _"_ Loud and clear, Danny Boy!" She shouted, hoping it would be high enough for 'Danny Boy' to listen. Clearing her throat after a moment, she spoke again: "Big disc above the ship, blow it up! Over!"

" _EXTERMINATE THE DOCTOR!_ "

"And now I'm out." She exclaimed, spinning around and running back towards the TARDIS.

* * *

_"_ You heard him, Group Captain! Target that dish! Send in all we've got!" Churchill commanded.

_"4-4 to Danny Boy, target the dish and stop that signal."_

_"Over. Understood, sir. Over."_

_"You can count on us! Over."_

_"OK, chaps, let's put London back under cover of darkness. Tally ho!"_

The plane squadron began to fire at the Dalek spaceship, following the Doctor's orders and repeatedly hitting the disc. It was not too long until the Daleks began to attack them back, hitting two of the planes of the squadron.

Everyone in the Cabinet Wars Room was gathered around the panels, waiting with anxiety and hope. Some nervous, some calm, all of them hoping that maybe, they would receive some news. Grantaire stood slightly far from the others, watching with worry.

_"We've lost Jubilee, sir! Over."_

_"Beam still active, sir."_

_"_ Then send them in again!" Churchill commanded once more.

The Squadron regrouped and began to attack the ship once more.

" _Flintlock's down sir, and the disc seems to be protected. Over."_

* * *

The Doctor was running around the console room of the TARDIS in a hurry, pressing buttons and pushing levers. She had turned the radio of the TARDIS on a few minutes ago and had been listening in. She was trying to work out a plan, her brain working as fast as it could.

 _"_ _Danny Boy to the Doctor... only me left now._ "Came a voice from the radio speaker. _"_ _Anything you can do,_ _Madame_ _? Over._ "

The Doctor rushed to the other side of the panels, picking up a microphone. "The Doctor to Danny Boy... The Doctor to Danny Boy." She called, reaching out with her left arm to press a button. _"_ I can disrupt the Dalek shields, but not for long. Over."

 _"_ _Good show, Doctor, go to it. Over._ "

The Doctor finally started the TARDIS, needing her ship to be working twice as hard as it usually did. She moved to the controls, frantically working on them.

" _Going in, wish me luck. Over._ ""Danny Boy" fired at the Dalek ship again, managing to hit one of the beams. The Doctor heard him letting out a laugh, before speaking again: " _Danny Boy to the Doctor...going in for another attack._ "

 _"_ The Doctor to Danny Boy. The Doctor to Danny Boy." She quickly answered. "Destroy this ship! Over."

 _"_ _What about you,_ _Madame_ _?_ "

 _"_ I'll be OK." She replied, turning around to press another button. As soon as she did so, the monitors of the TARDIS lit up, the image of the white Dalek appearing on it.

" _DOCTOR! CALL OFF YOUR ATTACK!"_

 _"_ And let you scuttle off back to the future? No way." She shook her head, leaning her body against the controls panel. "This is the end for you. The final end!"

_"_ _CALL OFF THE ATTACK OR WE WILL DESTROY EARTH."_

_"_ I'm not stupid, mate!" She replied. "You've just played your last card!"

_"_ _BRACEWELL IS A BOMB."_

_"_ You're bluffing. Deception's second nature to you. There isn't a sincere bone in your body..." She trailed of, before adding. "There isn't a bone in your body!"

_"_ _HIS POWER IS DERIVED FROM AN OBLIVION CONTINUUM! CALL OFF YOUR ATTACK, OR WE WILL DETONATE THE ANDROID."_

_"_ NO! This is my best chance ever! The last of the Daleks! I can rid the Universe of you, once and for all!"

 _"_ THEN DO IT. BUT WE WILL SHATTER THE PLANET BELOW! THE EARTH WILL DIE SCREAMING."

The Doctor stopped in her tracks, biting her lower lip. This wasn't supposed to be a hard decision, and yet, she couldn't seen to make up her mind. It was the planet earth, or revenge in those awful creatures. "And if I let you go, you'll be stronger than ever. A new race of Daleks."

_"_ _THEN CHOOSE, DOCTOR! DESTROY THE DALEKS OR SAVE THE EARTH. BEGIN COUNTDOWN OF OBLIVION CONTINUUM! CHOOSE, DOCTOR. CHOOSE. CHOOSE."_

In one side, if she kept the attack going, she would successfully get rid of the Daleks. Never again would they exterminate another being, never again would they kill someone she loved... But as she thought about it, just how many times exactly had she gotten rid of them? How many times had she destroyed them, almost loosing everything she had left, only to have the Daleks coming back over and over again. There were many risks she was willing to take, but the destruction of the earth, of a beautiful planet that hasn't even properly began to grow into it's fullest yet... that was not one of them.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor picked up the microphone from the controls again. She hesitated for a moment. "The Doctor to Danny Boy. The Doctor to Danny Boy. Withdraw."

 _"Say again,_ _ma'am_ _. Over."_ Danny-Boy asked.

 _"_ Withdraw! Return to Earth. Over and out."

_"_ _But_ _ma'am_ _...!"_

_"_ There's no time, you have to return to Earth now! Over!" The Doctor instructed, before dropping the microphone on the ground and running to the other side of the control panels, setting the coordinates for back on earth. She tapped her foot on the ground nervously as her ship materialized back in Cabinet Wars Room, rushing outside once it had landed.

When she finally found out their location – after good five minutes of running – they were reunited around a table, discussing something that seemed important. Her hearts were racing on her chest. There was no time to loose.

" _BRACEWELL!_ " She called, walking towards him and punching him in the face, using all her remaining strength. Her sudden attack caused the professor to fall in the ground. "Sorry, Professor. You're a bomb! An inconceivably massive Dalek bomb."

 **"** What?" Bracewell asked, looking at her with confusion.

 _"_ There's an Oblivion Continuum inside you – a captured wormhole that provides perpetual power. Detonate that, and the Earth will bleed through into another dimension!" She explained, kneeling besides him and pulling out the sonic screwdriver out of the pockets of her leather jacket. "Now keep down!"She instructed, pointing the sonic towards his chest.

Soon, the skin pulled itself apart to reveal a mechanic device. In the center of it, a circular pad, divided into a few sections that were glowing blue. Bracewell reached out with one hand to touch it, but as soon as he did so, one of the sections became yellow.

 _"_ Well?" Grantaire asked, watching the scene unfold with confusion plastered across his face. "Can you stop it?"

 _"_ I don't know. _"_ She shrieked, shaking the sonic. "Never seen one up close before!"

 _"_ So, what, they've wired him up to detonate?" Grantaire asked again.

 _"_ Not wired him up! He is a bomb. Walking, talking, BOOM,exploding! The moment that flashes red..."

 _"_ It's incredible." Churchill mused. "He talked to us about his memories. The Great War..."

 _"_ Someone else's stolen thoughts, implanted in a positronic brain." The Doctor made a pause. "Tell me about it. Bracewell! Tell me about your life!"

 _"_ Doctor, I really don't think this is the time?" Bracewell tried to argue, slightly confused.

 _"_ Tell me and prove you're human." She pleaded, as another section turned yellow. "Tell me everything."

 _"_ My family ran the Post Office. It's a little place just near the abbey. Just by the ash trees. There used to be eight trees but..." He paused. "But there was a storm."

 _"_ And your parents? Come on! Tell me!"

 _"_ Good people. Kind people. They... They died. Scarlet fever."

 _"_ Scarlet fever is awful." Grantaire sighed.

 _"_ What was that like? How did it feel?"

 _"_ Please..." Bracewell pleaded.

 _"_ How did it make you feel, Edwin?" The Doctor asked. "Tell me! Tell me now!"

 _"_ It hurt. It hurts, Doctor, so badly. Like a wound." The first section goes from yellow to red, and a fourth yellow section appeared. "It was worse than a wound. Like I'd been emptied out. There was nothing."

 _"_ Good. Remember it now, Edwin! The ash trees by the Post Office and your mum and dad and losing them and men in the trenches you saw die... Remember it! Feel it, because you're human." The Doctor went on, nervously biting her lip. _"_ You're not like them. You are not like the Daleks!"

 _"_ It hurts! Doctor, it hurts so much!"

 _"_ Good! Good! Good! Brilliant! Embrace it." The fourth section began to glow red. Time was running out. "That means you're alive! They cannot explode that bomb, you're a human being! You are flesh and blood! They cannot explode that bomb! Believe it! You are Professor Edwin Bracewell! And you, my friend, are a human being!" She exclaimed, beginning to get rather desperate when the fifth section began to glow red. She turned her head, looking up at Grantaire. "It's not working, I can't stop it!"

Grantaire analysed the situation for a moment, making use of what he liked to call, his 'artistic sense' and some simple philosophy he had exchanged once with his friends back at Paris.

What defined a creature as human? It was not the capacity of thinking, that was for sure. In the past few days, the young man had seen plenty of different beings, thinking and living and moving on with their lives, and not all of them were human. Or perhaps he was looking into the picture with a wrong definition of human on his mind. What made someone human? Emotions did. But what emotion would be strong enough to make Bracewell feel human?

The Doctor seemed to think it was pain. Perhaps she was going into the right direction, but not using her eyes to completely see what the path truly was. Grantaire was not sure that machines were supposed to feel pain – he was still getting used to the concept of a telephone – but he noticed that, the more pain Bracewell felt, the faster the sections in his chests light up in a bright red colour.

Perhaps, the emotion Bracewell needed to stop the countdown was something in between pain and happiness. Two feelings that balanced themselves perfectly. And what emotion, exactly, was a mix of both?

Blinking his eyes in realization, Grantaire quickly approached Bracewell, kneeling by his side. "Hey... Did you ever fancied someone you know you shouldn't?" The young man asked.

 _"_ W... What?" The other asked, confused.

 _"_ Hurts, doesn't it?" Grantaire went on, as the last section went from red to yellow. _"_ But kind of a good hurt."

 _"_ I really shouldn't talk about her." Bracewell sighed.

 _"_ There's a her, then." He cheered.

 _"_ What was her name?" The Doctor asked, looking at Grantaire with a smile on her face.

 _"_ Dorabella."

"Dorabella? It's a lovely name, it's a beautiful name." She commented.

 _"_ What was she like, Edwin?" Grantaire asked, standing up.

A smile appeared on Bracewell's face, his eyes lighting up. "Oh... Such a smile. And her eyes... Her eyes were so blue...Almost violet. Like the last touch of sunset on the edge of the world... Dorabella.."

The Doctor and Grantaire watched with amazement as all the sections converted from red to yellow, and from yellow to blue. That was good. Blue was a good colour, blue was a safe colour. It meant that the bomb had been disarmed, it meant that they were safe now.

"Welcome to the human race." The Doctor mused, turning her head to Churchill and pointing a finger at him. _"_ You're brilliant," she started, before looking at Bracewell and doing the same "you're brilliant..." she trailed of, getting up from where she was and approaching Grantaire. _"_ And you..." she commented with a laugh, standing on her tip-toes and kissing his fore-head "you were amazing". Not noticing the blush that appeared into her companion's face, she clasped her hands together and turned around. "Now, gotta stop them! Stop the Daleks!" She announced, as she began to run away.

 _"_ Wait! Doctor! Wait... Wait." Bracewell called. The Doctor stopped, turning around to look at him. "It's too late."

 _"_ No, no, no! They can't!" She cried. "They can't have got away from me again!"

 _"_ No, I can feel it, my mind is clear." Bracewell stated. "The Daleks have gone."

The Doctor groaned, leaning her body against a pole and rubbing her eyes in annoyance.

 _"_ Doctor. It's OK! You did it. You stopped the... bomb thing." Grantaire tried to reason. "Doctor?"

 _"_ I had a choice. And they knew I'd choose the Earth." She sighed. "The Daleks have won. They beat me. They've won."

 _"_ But you saved the Earth. Not too bad, is it...?" There was a silence in the room. Seeing the Doctor's hesitation, Grantaire turned his head to Churchill and the other officers. "Right?"

There were many sighs of agreement and cheers of success across the room. The Doctor blinked her eyes, giving her companion a small smile. **"** 's not too bad."

 _"_ It's a brilliant achievement, my dear friend." Churchill exclaimed.

* * *

_"_ So, what now, then?" Grantaire asked a few hours later, tilting his head to the side.

 _"_ I still have a war to run, Mister Grantaire." Churchill answered. "Not that I'm allowed to give you much information about it. The Doctor did said you were from the past, right?" He asked, as one of the soldiers handed him a clipboard. The Prime Minister adjusted his glasses, taking a better look at it. "They hit the Palace and St Paul's again. Fire crews only just saved it."

Grantaire crossed his arms, leaning his back against a wall. He felt his stomach rumbling in pain once more, and feeling rather tired from the last events, he decided it would be a good time to call it a day. He looked up, his eyes scanning the room. _"_ Where's the Doctor?"

 _"_ Tying up loose ends." The Time Lord replied, as she entered the room. "I've taken out all the alien technology Bracewell put in."

 _"_ Won't you reconsider, Doctor?" Churchill asked. "Those Spitfires would win me the war in 24 hours!"

 _"_ Exactly." She pointed out, smiling in amusement.

 _"_ But why not? Why can't we put an end to all this misery?"

 _"_ Oh, it doesn't work like that, Winston. It's going to be tough... There are terrible days to come. The darkest days." She trailed of. "But you can do it. You know you can."

 _"_ Stay with us, and help us win through! The world needs you."

 _"_ The world doesn't need me." The Doctor laughed.

 _"_ No?" Churchill asked, blinking his eyes in confusion.

 _"_ The world's got Winston Spencer Churchill." She replied, making once again the "V for Victory" sign with her fingers.

Churchill laughed. "It's been a pleasure, as always."

 _"_ Too right."

Churchill and The Doctor hugged for a few seconds, laughing and tapping each others back just like the old friends they were. When they were done with the hug, Churchill turned to look at Grantaire.

"It was a pleasure to meet you." The young man nodded his head.

"I'm sure it has!" Churchill replied, nodding back and giving him a pat on the shoulders, before starting to walk away.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. "Could you give us the TARDIS key back? The one you just took from the Doctor's pocket?"

The Doctor looks at them with wide eyes, reaching into the pockets of her jacket. She cursed under her breath, before raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, he's good, Doctor. As sharp as a pin!" Churchill complimented, handing the TARDIS key to Grantaire. "Almost as sharp as me! KBO!"

* * *

Bracewell was standing in one of the corners of the room, looking rather pale. He sighed, looking up as the Doctor and Grantaire approached him. This was it. Time for the inevitable. "I've been expecting you, Doctor. I knew this moment had to come." He spoke softly.

 _"_ Moment?" The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow.

 _"_ It's time to de-activate me." He informed.

 _"_ Is it...?"She asked, looking at Grantaire. _"_ Oh... yeah."

 _"_ You have no choice. I'm Dalek technology. Can't allow me to go pottering around down here where I have no business."

 _"_ No, you're dead right, Professor. 100% right." She said, nodding her head. "And by the time I get back here in... what, ten minutes?"

 _"_ More like 15." Grantaire shrugged.

 _"_ Fifteen minutes, yeah, that's exactly what I'm going to do. You are going to be so de-activated. It's going be like you've never even been... activated." The Doctor said, using a serious expression.

 _"_ Yeah."

"15 minutes?" Bracewell asked.

 _"_ More like 20, if I'm honest." She corrected herself. "Once Grantaire and I see to the urgent thing…"

"Yes!" Grantaire agreed. _"…_ we've got to see to... The... the... See?" He asked, earning a cheerful nod from the Doctor.

 _"_ Very well, Doctor. I shall wait here and prepare myself." Bracewell stated.

Grantaire rolled his eyes, taking a step closer to the Doctor and speaking in a low tone of voice. _"_ Dalek technology is a little bit slow on the uptake, isn't it?"He asked, causing the Doctor to laugh, before speaking again. _"_ That thing we've got to do. Gonna take half an hour, realistically, isn't it, Doctor?"

 _"_ Easily!" She agreed. "So no running off, that's what I'm saying. Don't go trying to find that little Post Office with the ash trees or that girl... What was her name again?"

 _"_ Dorabella." Bracewell replied.

 _"_ Dorabella. On no account go looking for her. Mind you, you can get a lot done in half an hour." She instructed, winking at him.

Bracewell seemed to finally understand what the Doctor had meant. He laughed, nodding his head cheerfully. _"_ Thank you, thank you, Doctor!"

 _"_ Come along, Grant!" The Doctor said.

* * *

After they had left the room, the duo started to make their way towards the TARDIS in somewhat a comfortable silence. The Doctor would toss the sonic screwdriver from hand to hand, and Grantaire would laugh at her face in the few occasions in which she dropped it on the floor.

"So..." Grantaire started, scratching the back of his head and repressing a yawn, before blinking his eyes and asking. "You have enemies then?"

 _"_ Everyone's got enemies." She shrugged.

 _"_ Yes..." He agreed, slowly nodding his head. "But my enemies are the bar owners of the filth streets of Paris and sobriety. You have, you know, real and dangerous enemies. Arch-enemies, even?" He asked, leaning against the TARDIS and blinking his eyes.

 _"_ Suppose so." The Doctor shrugged again, leaning against the TARDIS as well.

 _"_ And here's me thinking we'd just be running through time, being daft and fixing stuff." Grantaire remarked. "But no, it's dangerous."

 _"_ Yup. Very..." The Doctor agreed, brushing a strand of her blonde hair away from her face. "Is that a problem?"

 _"_ I'm still here, aren't I?" He chuckled, watching her for a moment. "You're worried about the Daleks."

 _"_ I'm always worried about the Daleks." She sighed.

 _"_ It'll take time, though, won't it?" He asked. "There's still not many of them. They'll need a while to build themselves up."

 _"_ It's not that. There's something else. Something we've forgotten..." The Doctor trailed of, before looking at Grantaire. "Or rather, you have."

 _"_ Me?" He inquired, with a frown.

 _"_ You didn't know them, Grantaire." She explained. "You'd never seen them before. And you should have done. You should."

Without saying anything else, the Doctor opened the door of the TARDIS and walked inside, leaving a confused Grantaire behind. He blinks his eyes, tilting his head to the side, before feeling his stomach rumbling once again. He shook his head, deciding that it was a problem for another time, and rushed inside.

"Doctor?" He asked, closing the doors behind him. "Would you have something to eat around here?"

"Yeah, of course. In the kitchen." She mused, twirling around the console room. "Which reminds me. I have to take you to your room later. Two adventures in one night. You must be tired." With that, the Doctor flicked some switches and pushed up some levers.

The TARDIS dematerializes, going back to it's usual route on the Time Vortex. But back in Cabinet War Rooms, plastered across one of the walls, there was a small crack, almost unnoticeable, with the exact same shape as the crack on Grantaire's room from when he was a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could you see me struggling with the HTML? One day, I swear, I will get the hang of this. But as for now, I shall leave you, my lovely readers. Thank you for reading this and please, please, leave a kudos or a comment. It really makes me happy! Next Chapter: The Doctor, Grantaire, Fish Fingers, Custard, Talking, the origin of the nickname R, friendship fluff. Sounds good, doesn't it? ;)


	8. Chapter V: Fish Fingers and Custard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you wish to call me by a nickname, you could always call me R.”
> 
> “… R?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. “I don’t… understand this nickname.”
> 
> “Well… it’s a pun.” He admitted, clearing his throat. “Grantaire sounds like Grand R in the English language… Grand R… Capital R. Simply R for short.”
> 
> The Doctor stared at Grantaire in silence for several moments, unsure of how to reply. Then, whispering something along the lines of “That’s a terrible pun” and “I can’t believe it”, she reached out to hold his free hand and led him through the door that had just recently appeared, humming something under her breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow. It’s been quite something since my last update, huh? My apologies for that. I’ve been rather busy with getting myself into university and a writer’s block that simply refused to go away. But I’m back now and with a new chapter – it doesn’t contain anything relevant to the plot, I just wanted to build up more the friendship between Grantaire and The Doctor. So, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for reading and leaving comments and kudos, they truly make my day.

"I haven't eaten anything in days!" The Doctor commented happily, as she walked through the hallways of the TARDIS. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail and she no longer wore the leather jacket – claiming to be slightly too warm in the infinite space-ship for her taste. "Honestly though. The last time I had a proper meal was before I regenerated. I was still in my tenth body. I had fish and chips. Which taste delicious – remind me of taking you to eat something of those later."

"I shall do so." Grantaire agreed, looking at her in a mix of amusement and awe. "And exactly how long ago, if I may ask, did you consume those fish and chips?"

"Somewhere between three or four days ago, I presume." She shrugged it off easily, twirling herself and having a look around the long and seemingly endless hallway. "Time Lords are different from humans, you see. We have two hearts and we don't need the same amount of sleep or food as you do. We can go on days being sleep-deprived and without having something proper to eat. Of course, eventually, the hunger and the exhaustion catch up with you and it's rather annoying."

"I will never get used to the idea of you having two hearts." Grantaire stated, rubbing his eyes and sighing deeply. "Not that I intend to offend you, but- what good is that second heart for?"

The Doctor simply grinned, not bothering to give him an answer. She stopped walking suddenly and put her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side. "Now, honey. Where did you put the kitchen?" The TARDIS lit herself up and made a gorgeous sound, causing a door to appear right behind the Doctor. The Time Lord laughed, spinning around and planting a kiss in one of the walls. "Thank you, my love."

Grantaire laughed at the exchange and scratched the back of his head, a yawn escaping from him a few seconds after.

"Grant?" The Doctor asked. "Are you all right?"

"Slightly tired, but yes, I'm quite well." He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. "If you wish to call me by a nickname, you could always call me R."

"… R?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. "I don't… understand this nickname."

"Well… it's a pun." He admitted, clearing his throat. "Grantaire sounds like Grand R in the English language… Grand R… Capital R. Simply R for short."

The Doctor stared at Grantaire in silence for several moments, unsure of how to reply. Then, whispering something along the lines of " _That's a terrible pun_ " and " _I can't believe it_ ", she reached out to hold his free hand and led him through the door that had just recently appeared, humming something under her breath.

Judging by the infinity size of the TARDIS and the other extravagant rooms they had come across earlier, Grantaire had assumed that the kitchen would be this huge place, similar to the kitchens one would find in a palace of some sort. He was actually quite surprised to find a small area, decorated with different types of flowers and furniture – between those, he recognized a table, a few chairs and a balcony that occupied most of the space. The rest were, he assumed, technology that were only invented in a very distant future.

"What would you like to eat?" The Doctor asked, finally letting go of his hand and leaning herself against the balcony. "We have everything here."

"Anything is fine with me." He shrugged.

"I don't know what I should make, though." She replied, growing slightly impatient. "So many options. I could make us some roasted turkey. Or perhaps I could bake a cake. An apple pie. No, no, forget that, we should have some cheese sandwich. Do you like cheese? What kind of bread would you like?"

"I don't really have a preference."

"I don't know what to make." The Doctor let out a cry of frustration. "I only regenerated twenty-nine hours ago and I'm starving and I don't know what we should eat because I don't know what I like and apparently, you don't really care about whether we eat something tasty or awful."

"It would still be more than many have to eat." Grantaire started, taking a seat on the small table and looking up at the Doctor. "I'm grateful for the fact that we have what to eat, and therefore, I won't complain whether we eat badly or not."

"You're a cheery one, huh?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and letting out a sigh. Then, blinking her eyes in surprise and realization, the Doctor suddenly smiled, snapping her fingers. "Yoghurt! I like yoghurt. Yoghurt's my favorite. I need yoghurt."

She opened up one of the technological devices - the fridge, as she explained to him later – and grinned to herself, grabbing a small bottle of yoghurt and taking a huge sip from it. She made a pause, before shaking her head and spitting out the yoghurt on the sink. "I hate yoghurt." She groaned. "It's just stuff with bits in."

"You said it was your favorite." Grantaire pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"Did I?" She inquired, with a frown, before putting the yoghurt bottle back into the fridge. "Wait, I know what I like. Pears. I like pears. Grantaire-" She called, turning to face him. "Pass me a pear?"

The young man sighed, taking a pear out of the fruit bowl that sat elegantly on the table and throwing it at the Doctor's direction. She quickly caught it, taking a huge bite on it and happily chewing. Not too long after that, the Time Lord turned to the sink once more, spitting out the chewed pieces of pear. "Pear is rubbish. I hate pears. Never let me eat pears again."

"Doctor?" Grantaire asked, a confused expression plastered across her face. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me, it's just..." She sighed, shaking her head. "New mouth. New rules. It's like eating after cleaning your teeth. Everything tastes wrong. It's one of the side effects of regeneration, sadly. I should have taken care of this earlier." She made a pause. "No. Wait. Hang on. I know what I need..." She trailed of, opening up the fridge once again. "I need, I need, I need... fish fingers... and custard! Yes, that's exactly what I need!"

* * *

A little while later, the Doctor had finished the preparation of her strange meal. She set up on the table a plate filled with fish fingers, a jar of water and a big bowl of custard. Humming something under her breath – just like she was doing before – she took two cups out of the kitchen's cupboard and handed one of them to Grantaire, before taking a seat as well.

Grantaire looked at her with a frown. "Uh... what exactly are we going to eat?"

"Fish fingers and custard." The Doctor simply replied, with a shrug. "I hope you don't mind, but all I have to offer for now it's water. I don't usually do grocery shopping, because the TARDIS can materialize any food in the universe... But she just re-built herself, so it may take a while until she's working properly again."

"I don't mind. Thank you, Doctor." Grantaire smiled. "And... how exactly are we supposed to eat these fish fingers and custard?"

"Oh, that's the fun part." She cheered, taking one of the fish fingers from the plate and dipping in on the custard. "You do this, and then you eat." She explained, before shoving it into her mouth. Grantaire watched with curiosity, expecting her to spit it out in the same way she did with the yoghurt and the pear. For his surprise, though, she happily swallowed it, clapping her hands. "Amazing. I don't know how I never thought of doing that before." She commented, before looking up at him. "Try one."

Grantaire hesitated for a moment, but finally gave in. Carefully picking up one of those fish fingers – which he thought to be a strange name, since he never heard of fish with fingers before in his life – and dipping it into the bowl of custard for a few seconds. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, taking a quick bite of the odd combination. He flavored it for a few seconds, before swallowing, and looked at the Doctor. "It's quite good, I must admit."

"Told ya!" She smirked. "Never question my culinary abilities, Grantaire."

"Which abilities?" He scoffed. "You just mixed two ingredients together. It was more of a lucky break."

"Nope. Lucky break was me inventing pasta." The Doctor mused, with a shrug.

"You invented pasta?" Grantaire asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Well, sort of, yes. I accidentally taught the pasta recipe for the Chinese a few years ago, way earlier than it should have been invented originally. _Silly, old me!_ They never gave me the credit for it, though." She shrugged, before quietly adding: "I also invented the Banana Daiquiri a few years earlier... Good times they were. Pre-revolutionary France. _Madame de Pompadour_. Lovely woman she was. Had a tiny bit of a crush on me."

He opened his mouth to reply, but changed his mind. Knowing the Doctor, she probably had invented those culinary extravagances. He wondered for a moment about just exactly how many things had she invented, but came to the conclusion that he was far too tired to dwell on that.

So instead of arguing, Grantaire just kept on eating those fish fingers with custard, while listening to the Doctor talk about the many adventures she had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please, do leave feedback, I would love to hear what everyone is thinking so far! Next Chapter: Told from the point of view of a complete stranger, whose identity will be revealed on the future. The Doctor and Grantaire do not make appearances.


	9. Chapter VI: Ghost Of Someone Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She's a hallucination."
> 
> "But she feels real..."
> 
> "All the hallucinations feel real."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the small two-days delay on this chapter. I was finishing editing and freaking out because the next chapter is nowhere near good or finished. I shall work on that during the week. Well, here's another chapter for you – and this time, it's important for the plot. Try and guess who this mysterious person is. I would like to thank you for reading, leaving kudos and commenting on this – those make my day, honestly. (They also give me motivation to write......). Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"How was your week?"

The voice of his psychiatrist sounded lower and colder than usual. Perhaps because he was not paying fully attention to her or perhaps because just like his previous doctors, she was already giving up on him. He did not care enough to choose from one of the above.

The room seemed to have gotten colder. He gulped, as he fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket. "It was..." His voice also sounded lower than usual. Huskier than usual, probably due to the few days he spent without speaking to anyone. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, before trying again. "It was... It was the same."

 _Another week of suffering_. He thought to himself. Another week filled with silence. Another week filled with bottles and more bottles of anti-depressives. Another week in which he had not dared to leave his home. Another week of lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and crying onto the pillow because things were just too hard for him to handle.

"I see." Doctor Adler commented. The lack of emotion on her voice caused him to flinch.

This was a routine he had already gotten used to – whenever one of his doctors thought they had done everything in their power to help, this would happen. They would grow less interested, for they already knew that no change had presented itself into his life. They would keep asking the same questions and releasing him earlier from his appointments. Until they eventually indicated him someone they thought to be better suited to help him, followed by a look of guilty and disappointment plastered across their faces.

And he hated it. Or at least, he wanted to hate it. He felt nothing but pain. Only it was not a physical pain. Sometimes he wished it was – because at least they would have found a reason for it a long time ago. No. The pain he felt was made purely of sadness and emptiness. And when the pain was not there, he felt numb.

He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed – sometimes he was not even sure if he had ever laughed at all. He probably had done so in his childhood. Or at least, that's what he was doing in the picture of him placed in the living room. Sometimes he stared at it for long hours, wondering when exactly that laughter and joy got replaced by so many tears.

"What about your hallucinations?" Doctor Adler asked, raising her brows. "Are the medicines helping?"

"A little." He shrugged. "They no longer happen when I'm awake. Only when I go to sleep." He paused. "Dreams. They are only dreams now."

"And are they always about the same thing?"

He quietly shook his head. "They are always different dreams. Only two things remain the same."

"The giant blue box and the blonde woman?"

"Yes." He made a pause, lowering his gaze to the floor. "They feel more like memories than dreams. Almost as if I had forgotten something. Something very important. But I can never found out what it is. Sometimes they feel real too – sometimes I feel her touching me. Hugging me. She speaks with me and I... I laugh. Only I don't feel like myself."

"She's a hallucination."

"But she feels real..."

"All the hallucinations feel real."

A part of him knew that Doctor Adler spoke the truth. That whoever that woman was, she was nothing but a product of his imagination. She was nothing. Perhaps a face he saw on the streets that for some reason, got stuck in his head. She was not real. But he wanted her to be real. He wanted to feel her hands tangled in the mess of his hair, playing with a few strands of it. He wanted to feel her hug, which always seemed so warm and full of love. He wanted to hear her speak and laugh of whatever she had said. He wanted to feel her kissing his forehead and holding his hand. He wanted to be around her.

Because in his dreams, when she was around, he felt real. Her presence filled his spirit with something he did not knew how exactly to describe – but it was definitely something good. And he wanted that. Even if he didn't felt like himself. Even if he felt like he was trapped in someone else's body.

"I know..."

"I believe that in order for us to work something out for the hallucinations, we need to study their psychological roots first. We need to find out what in your brain is causing them, and to do that, I will need you to tell me more about those hallucinations."

"Dreams." He corrected bitterly.

"Dreams. Right. In those dreams…" Doctor Adler continued, adjusting her glasses as she slowly looked up at her patient. "Has she ever told you to… end your own life?"

"Never." He shook his head and leaned back on the chair, tucking his hands inside of the pockets of his jacket. "Quite the opposite, actually. She often tells me to stay safe."

"What exactly does she say?"

"She… She always either hugs me or kisses my forehead and asks me to remain safe. Usually, the safest place is inside the blue box and she asks me to stay there. She doesn't want to see me get hurt – it makes her upset."

"And have you ever gotten hurt? Or disobeyed her pleads?"

"… I have. Yes."

"And how exactly she reacted when it happened?"

"She took care of me." By the look on the psychiatrist's face, this had certainly been an unexpected answer. "She took me back to the blue box and helped me to fix any wound I had. She stayed with me the whole time, and she was humming something. A lullaby, I believe."

"She often seems to be very protective of you."

"She is…" He trailed of, clearing his throat. "She was devastated when I died."

"I'm… I'm sorry?"

"In the dreams. I died once. I don't remember how – I just remembered being covered in blood, dirt and… gun powder. And I was lying on the ground of this strange place… She was there. She was holding me in her arms and she was sobbing because… because I died. She kept screaming my name… She kept pleading for me to open my eyes. I have never seen her so broken or sad before."

There was a long moment of dense silence in the room and he was not exactly sure what was going to happen next. Doctor Adler had a quite strange look on her face as she wrote something down on her notebook. He swallowed dry, looking around in discomfort. He could hear the _tick tock_ of the clock on the wall, repeating itself over and over again. He could feel his heart barely beating on his chest – which somehow seemed to be as tired of beating as he was of living.

A few minutes passed until Doctor Adler cleared her throat. He looked at her with expectation and fear – and watched as she slowly took off her glasses and cleaned them using the sleeves of her cardigan. "Your time is almost up now. I believe that there are many different and interesting ways to analyse your hallucinations and I will work on that during my free time. We have made progress today."

He nodded his head politely as he listened to her speak about many possibilities and congratulate him on his courage of opening up – and once again, that was something he was already used to hear. It was the same thing with all the doctors he had gone through and it would be the same with all the doctors he would go through. Nothing would ever change. Nothing would ever improve.

The feeling of emptiness would remain with him until his dying days, probably. Now he only had to wait and pray for that day to arrive soon. It pained him too much to keep merely existing. He felt almost as if he was a ghost from someone who died a long time ago.

A ghost of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, any feedback is completely appreciated. Thank you for reading and please, leave a kudos or a comment! Next Chapter: River Song.


	10. Chapter VII: Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It didn’t matter if he missed his friends or not. Grantaire knew his place was in the TARDIS, with the Doctor. This place had become his home in a short period of time and he would not trade it for anything in the world.
> 
> For the first time, in a very long time, Grantaire felt truly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, my usual apologies for the lack of updates. Life got a bit on the way of my writing. I had many important school exams to study for and essays and projects that needed to be done. In the middle of that, I now have seven unfinished chapters and plot twists wildly running through my mind – you are all going to love it.
> 
> This is a filler chapter, but with important information regarding the plot, as usual. Slightly short. A Christmas chapter, with an appearance from the infamous group called Les Amis De l’ABC and Marius Pontmercy. Set in different time streams. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**2013.**

He buries his head into his pillow and holds back a few tears. His body is wrapped around a heavy green blanket and as he contemplates all of his choices on the previous years, he almost wishes he had the strength to go downstairs and face his family.

He doesn't. Instead, he bits his lower lip and sighs because once again, he is the cause of a ruined Christmas. For a moment, he tries to imagine what is happening on the living room. His mother was probably praying for his recovery and his sisters were definitely discussing how ' _he only seems to get worse_ ' and asking themselves ' _what the hell is wrong with him anyways?_ '

He closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep, but he can't. Not without taking his medication and… he really doesn't want to take his medication. He doesn't know what's wrong. He doesn't know why he still insists on trying to get better.

The window was open and he could hear the sound of children's laughter and the singing coming from the neighbor's yard. A cold wind blows through his room and he shivers from the cold. He stays on the bed for several moments, before sighing and forcing himself to get up.

Once he reached the window – blanket still wrapped around him – he takes a moment to observe the sky and was surprised to see that it was snowing. A weird occurrence. It had been at least three years since it hasn't snowed in London during Christmas time.

His eyes drift away to the streets, which were already covered with snow. He feels tears coming to his eyes once again and takes a deep breath, trying to focus on his neighbors. There was already a snowball fight happening and a few children were making snow-angels and building snowmen. The adults were mostly watching, with a warm cup of tea in their hands… except for two particular adults.

One of them was a blonde haired woman, in a dress and a jacket. She looked strangely familiar, yet he couldn't quite recognize her. She was leaning against a big blue box, laughing and talking cheerfully to someone. A dark-haired man with curly messy hair, dressed in jeans and a green hoodie. He was sitting on the snow, making a few doodles on it with the help of a stick.

He only notices that he has been watching them for so long until the woman catches his eyes. She smiles and says something to her friend, before waving her hand cheerfully at him. The man looks up and hesitates for a moment, but does the same thing.

He finds himself smiling and waving back at them.

He doesn't remember when it was the last time he smiled. But he just did it.

It frightens him.

"What are you smiling at?" A sweet voice asked, causing him to turn around. It was his youngest sister, with only seven years old.

It takes him a few seconds to speak. He clears his throat and nervously runs a hand through his hair. "It's… It's snowing."

"Oh." She answers. "It has been a long time since I've seen your smile."

"I know…" He agrees, tucking his hands on the pockets of his jacket. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"You are only sad. That's not your fault." The little girl says, tilting her head to the side. "I never see you anymore and I was just…I was wondering if… If… Do you want to build a snowman?"

He stared at her for a moment before clearing his throat once again. "Yes." He replies, with a frown. "Yes, I would like that."

**1828.**

"It's Christmas Eve." Jean Prouvaire sighed, resting his elbows on top of the table. "Grantaire's favourite holiday. He should be back by now."

There was a silence in the room and everyone seemed to get unusually quiet. Even Bahorel, who was often telling a tale of his many adventures through the streets of Paris, was staring at his glass of beer in contemplative silence.

"It's been five months…" Combeferre spoke, cleaning his glasses with the sleeves of his jacket. "I'm beginning to suspect that this is not just any unexpected travel he went to. And even if that was the case, he would have left a note."

Joly took a deep breath to stop a giggle from escaping his mouth. He stood up, leaning against his cane, and scratched the tip of his nose. "Do not worry, friends of mine." He said, a smile appearing on his face. "I happened to stroll by his place earlier today and I saw him there."

"You saw him there?" Bossuet asked, raising his eyebrows. "And why haven't you told anyone about it?"

"I was waiting for the subject to come up." He shrugged, before continuing. "He was just passing by to take care of his garden. Something came up for him. He met with a dear old friend of his a few months ago. A remarkable woman she is, clever and brave. She is a doctor and a traveler and asked Grantaire to join her. He is her companion now."

"Grantaire eloped with a woman?" Enjolras asked, with a roll of his eyes. "All of this worry was for nothing, apparently."

"There is still a few unresolved businesses they need to attend to, but according to Grantaire, he shall be back soon. He apologized for his absence and so did his friend."

"And what is the name of his lady friend?" Bossuet inquired.

"She is called The Doctor."

"The Doctor?" Enjolras frowned. The name had sounded strangely familiar for him. Tilting his head to the side in confusion, the young revolutionary instinctively reached for something on his pockets: a fob watch. A golden and old fob watch, decorated with circular, complicated designs. He looked up once again at Joly, blinking his eyes with curiosity before finally asking: _"Doctor Who?"_

**Time Vortex – Unspecific Time.**

"I wonder if one of these years, there will be actual real snow in London on Christmas Time." The Doctor mused, as she entered her TARDIS.

"Perhaps not. But meanwhile, they have your weather… changer… thingy." Grantaire commented, sitting himself on the Captain's chair. "Christmas… For some reason, it has always been my favourite time of the year. But this one? Fighting aliens, almost dying at least three times, saving different planets… This was, by far, the best Christmas I ever had." He laughed. "Thank you, Doctor."

There was a moment of comfortable silence between the two of them. The Doctor let a yawn escape her lips, leaning herself against one of the handrails of the staircase while Grantaire closed his eyes and sighed.

"What about your friends?" The Doctor asked suddenly, raising her eyebrows. "Do you want to pay them a visit? I mean… It's Christmas, after all."

Grantaire pondered at the offer for several moments. As much as he missed his friends, he was not exactly sure if they had missed him as well. If anything, they were happier without his constant interruptions and sarcastic remarks. Perhaps they had even made great advances in their cause.

Another thought occurred to him: what if they did not approved of his association with the Doctor? What if his friends accused him of betrayal for associating with someone else? What if he was forced to leave the Doctor? What if the Doctor abandoned him once again?

 _No._ He thought, stealing a quick glance at the Time Lord. _She would not do that. Not after everything we've been through._

"Thank you, Doctor, but… I don't think it would be a good idea."

She frowned at his reply, slightly confused. She knew that he missed his friends because she had seen his expression when they had met Joly earlier that day, on their weekly trip to take care of the garden. She had heard the tone of happiness in his voice whenever he mentioned them to her. His friends had always seemed like his family, and the Doctor couldn't understand why he didn't wish to see his family. Especially on Christmas Eve.

But either way, she decided to let the subject go for the moment. Walking over to where he was, The Doctor placed a kiss on his cheek. "I'm glad to have you here." She commented, smiling at him before turning herself around and walking towards the TARDIS' corridors. "Have a merry Christmas, Grantaire."

"Merry Christmas, Doctor!" He replied, smiling to himself as he got up from the Captain's chair and looked around the console room.

It didn't matter if he missed his friends or not. Grantaire knew his place was in the TARDIS, with the Doctor. This place had become his home in a short period of time and he would not trade it for anything in the world.

For the first time, in a very long time, Grantaire felt truly happy.

**1832.**

Two men were sitting alongside each other in a living room. One with long red hair and another with floppy brown hair. There was a slight hint of melancholy and grief on the room, but it was enough to drive the Christmas Spirit completely away.

"I remember how much they liked the holidays…" One of the men, a young lad named Marius Pontmercy, commented. "I remember how…"

"Don't do this." The other man said, keeping his head down. "Please. I won't be able to stop crying."

"Remembering hurts." Marius agreed, nodding his head. Tears were starting to form into his eyes, as he looked up at his friend. "Have you seen her?"

"The Doctor?" The other asked, raising his eyebrows. "No. I haven't seen her in a long time. I am quite worried, in fact. It's Christmas…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No one should be alone on Christmas."

"Well," Marius trailed off for a moment. "It's the Doctor we're talking about. I have a feeling that she is probably getting herself into some trouble."

"No. I don't think she is." He quickly replied, acquiring a dark expression. "The last time I saw her, she was completely broken. She said she was done with travelling around and saving the universe… She said that the universe doesn't care."

"The universe needs her." He stated, looking down at his own feet. "Cosette and I shall pray for her tomorrow on Christmas Mass."

" _For_ her or _to_ her?" He asked calmly. "We often mistake the Doctor for some sort of Goddess. We often believe that she is strong and that she can take care of herself. I don't believe that's quite true."

"Me neither." Marius admitted. "We used to think the same thing about Enjolras, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did. Perhaps that's only one more thing they had in common with each other." He mused, finishing his cup of tea and standing up. "I shall be going now. Thank you for the tea invitation."

"It's my pleasure." Marius nodded his head. "Have a Merry Christmas."

"Thank you, my friend. A Merry Christmas for you as well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this! Please, leave a comment or a kudos. I hope you have a great holiday.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is extremely AU, so I thought I might add the changes I made, just to be safe.
> 
> Regarding the Doctor Who Plot, I changed the Doctor's gender in her Tenth and Eleventh-self. There aren't enough Female!Doctor fanfictions out there, so I thought I might give it a shot. But her gender does not change her relationship with either Rose or River. Amy and Rory's story was set during season 3 and 5, following their respective seasons story-lines and such. Oh, and Amy never waited for the Doctor.
> 
> Regarding the Les Misérables Plot, I decided that some of the deaths will not be happening. Uh, Grantaire is from Paris. In the book, it says that all of the members of the ABC society were from the Midi, except from Bossuet, so yeah. And that's pretty much what I changed.
> 
> Oh, okay, now basic information: this is a season 5 to 7 re-write using the Les Misérables characters as the companions. Some of the chapters will be re-written episodes from Doctor Who, some will be original chapters to develop the Doctor's friendship with Grantaire, and some will be original adventures to include the other Amis.
> 
> All right, I guess this is all. Thanks for taking the time to read this. :)


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